


A Dancing Star

by spinyfruit



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Depression, M/M, Romance, Self-Harm, Slow Build, it's an art AU, so everyone's an artist, student!Romano, teacher!Spain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-01-02 02:28:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 113,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinyfruit/pseuds/spinyfruit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You must have chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star.” – Friedrich Nietzsche</p><p>Antonio is the easy-going, life-loving art professor and Lovino is the Italian exchange student who walks into his art studio. When Antonio falls in love he thought he only had his job to worry about, but maybe it's Lovino's dark secret that'll push him away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa, Gian Lorenzo Bernini. 1647-52. Marble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: It starts off a bit goofy, because we're in Antonio's POV, but you'll see it has a purpose later on :)
> 
> Antonio – 27, Lovino – 19, Feliciano – 19, Alfred – 21/22

(Antonio's POV)

 

 

 

It’s a little before eight when I unlock the studio, which gives me an hour before the first class: the intro to studio art. It should be primarily freshman, since it’s the foundation course for the art major, so I need to be my most inviting today. I check my desk for the stack of syllabi; I hope there are enough of them. Next, I walk the perimeter of the studio, inspecting the several different stations. I check the paint table – counting off the acrylics, oils, spray-paint and watercolors – and then the utensil table – sharpening the pencils, cleaning the brushes, organizing the mediums, and laying out the clean palettes. On the other side of the room, there’s the cabinet of paper and various sketchbooks, the cabinet of canvases (painted and blank), and the larger cabinet of miscellaneous materials.

Okay, great! Everything seems to be in order, and it’s forty-five minutes till the beginning of class. Well, I guess I could sketch or –

“Hello? Oh, hey Toni, you’re already here!” Alfred walked through the door I had purposely left open for eager students, and sat down in one of the hard plastic chairs. His all-American appearance is just as it was before summer, only slightly more sun-kissed and very much more painterly. He scratched the side of his white-dripped jeans and continued, “So what’s the class I’m T.A.-ing for?”

I walked over to my desk, picked up a syllabus and said, “It’s Introduction to Studio Art, so it should be mainly freshmen. It’ll probably be sort of busy the first few weeks while they’re getting used to the system,” I handed him the slip of paper and sat down in the orange chair next to him. “But when everything calms down you can use the free time to work on your senior capstone.”

I watched his blue eyes move across the Century-script, but they seemed to lack the usual Alfred-luster. Still, he put the paper down and with a flashing-white smile continued, “So how has your art been going?”

“Ah well. I haven’t been able to do much really. I was able to take some photos when I visited California this summer. But,” I paused to look up. “I guess I’ve been sort of lazy. Most of the time, I didn’t feel like taking pictures, I just wanted to take everything in. It was a very beautiful trip!”

“Did you not find your inspiration?”

“No…” I looked to the right at the Frida Kahlo poster hanging above one of the worktables. “I guess it’s just that sometimes…sometimes it feels like I’m supposed to be a supporter of artists and not an artist myself.” I turned to Alfred and saw he was about to argue with me, so I continued, “It’s not like I don’t like doing art! Or that I plan to quit or anything. But…I think my job is firstly an art teacher, and secondly an artist. I don’t know,” I offered Alfred a carefree smile. “Maybe I’m too content with the world to change it.”

Alfred opened his mouth to speak, but paused to look away and think. He knitted his brows for a beat, then turned back and said with a confident beam, “You just need new inspiration. Once you find that you’ll be an artist again!”

I looked at Alfred’s optimistic, sparkling eyes and I can’t help but return a laughing “maybe.” But the truth is – Alfred is an artist and I am not. He doesn’t understand because he thinks that I’m just like him. That all I need is a new environment, a pretty face, some new materials, and the art will come. But it’s not like that for me. I did enjoy painting, sculpting, and photographing in grade school and high school; I was always one of the best and enjoyed making others happy with my art. When I entered college however, everything changed. I thought I was good, and had been told I was talented since I was ten, but when I opened the doors to my first art class (an Introduction to Studio Art class coincidentally), I saw how truly remarkable artists could be. There was so much beauty and so many gifts surrounding me: I should have been so angry. I should have despised the others and their superior talent. And from that anger, I should have been driven to succeed and become better. But instead, I was happy. I loved the other artists and their work; it made me happy to talk to them, learn from them, and help them in any way I could.

To me, artists were more interesting than their work. I thought I was the type of person that could harness my soul and recreate it for the world to see, but I’m not. It takes a special kind of person to be an artist: the person has to love too much, feel too much, and be possessed by an overwhelming desire to express themselves. And more than all of that, they feel compelled to keep doing art over and over again, because they truly cannot stop.

Being an art teacher, I see artists and I see people who love art. While in college the distinction between the two was rather vague, now I can see it very clearly: sometimes from a first impression.

Alfred rose to pick up supplies from the table and I watched him. If I hadn’t known of Alfred previously, I don’t think I would have pegged him as an artist. He certainly is – he’s quite obsessed actually – but he’s also remarkably calm and gentle, which is rare for an artist. He picked up a pencil and sketchbook and walked back to the chair. With a creak, he settled in, and as he began pressing his pencil to the paper I noticed the time.

“Oh, I guess they should start coming in now, it’s twenty minutes till nine.” I get up and move to my desk to silence my phone.

“Am I okay sitting here, or do you want me to move somewhere else?”

“You’re fine. I’m just going to – Hi there!” I smiled at the first student walking in. He’s dark haired, and tan skinned, with wide (very wide, but that might be from surprise) brown eyes.

“Hello,” he began hesitantly. His slender fingers fidgeted with his black sleeves, and compulsively pulled them down over his palms, so he could clench his fists into the fabric. His eyes shift from wide to narrow and he spoke again, “Are you the teacher?”

“Oh! You have an accent! Are you an exchange student? Oh, and yes, yes I am the teacher! Haha! I’m Professor Carriedo. But you can call me Antonio if you like, or Toni: that’s my nickname. I’m from Spain, so I have an accent too! Where are you from?”

I guess I rambled a bit, because he seemed a bit overwhelmed, if also a little bit angry. His cheeks reddened a bit and he said, “I’m Italian, so yes, I’m an exchange student.”

“Wait,” I called after him, as he stalked past Alfred to the very back of the room at the furthest worktable. “What’s your name?”

He set down his olive-green messenger bag and turned slightly in my direction to mutter, “Lovino.” I don’t know why, but saying his name seemed to embarrass him, because he sat down with a loud thump, crossed his arms over the table and gripped his forearms desperately.

I let Lovino be for a moment and watched him calm down. His fingers loosened their hold, and his chest heaved a quiet breath that swayed his head closer to the table. After a few moments he suddenly shut his eyes and squeezed his forearms – then in a flash, he scooted his chair out, and marched to the cupboards and cabinets. Though he walked rather gracefully, he wasn’t very discreet moving things around, or opening and closing wooden cabinet doors for that matter. I figure I would take this chance to reach out to him again, so I strolled over to his side. 

As I moved closer to him, he was already subtly sidestepping away, but I decided to speak anyways, and ask, “Are you looking for anything in particular?”

“No,” he answered immediately. But he seemed to second-guess himself, because he knitted his eyebrows together harshly, squeezed his eyes shut for a split second, then asked, “Where are the sketchbooks?”

“Oh,” I backed up a few steps to the first cabinet and opened the door. “They’re right here. What kind of texture do you want? There’s smooth, ro –” Lovino interrupted me by abruptly moving close – I noticed he smelled of roses and oil paint – shoving his sleeve into the cabinet and pulling out the closest sketchbook. I think I heard him mumble something, but it sounded sort of vague so it may have been Italian. Then he backed up to the other cabinets he was previously disorganizing and continued hunting.

My lips twitched a little because I knew what he was looking for; he just didn’t want to ask. He seemed very shy. So I silently moved to the other side of the room and began sharpening pencils. I looked around absent-mindedly, sharpening pencils that were already past pointy, until I saw brown hair and black sleeves close in from the corner of my eye. I tilted my chin down a little to see Lovino better, and observed his very red face, and molten brown eyes, intently focused on the pencil selection in front of him. I was a bit insulted, because he made an obvious point to stand a foot away from me, and stretch his right arm across the table to reach for the materials he wanted. Once he found what he needed, Lovino turned on his heel and walked back to his seat. I lingered near the table, blatantly staring at him, as he looked up once, then to the side, then to my direction – upon which he immediately turned back – and finally started sketching. I stayed a bit longer, somehow hoping that he would look up with a smile and ask, “Toni, would you like to see what I’m drawing?” But…

It appeared that’s not Lovino’s personality. So I let out a frustrated breath and walked past oblivious Alfred – still very much absorbed in his drawing – to my desk. I sat down, and soon after new students began to file in. I offered each of them hellos and they all smiled and exchanged greetings with me; I was even able to earn laughs from some. Why wasn’t Lovi as open as them? Wait – Lovi? I chuckled quietly at the thought. That’s such a cute nickname! Maybe he’ll smile if I call him that!

With that happy thought loitering my mind, I check the time and it’s nine o’ clock. The class is a gentle hum of cheery conversations, and I stood up to pass out the syllabus. But as I move from my desk to the walking path from the doorway, my back is tackled from a very hard, and very loud, body yelling, “Oh _scusa_! I’m sorry! I didn’t see you there!” He moved around me to look up at my face. “Oh, but you’re really tall! I should have seen you. Hmm, I wonder why I didn’t. Well, you’re not hurt are you?”

This rapid-fire way of talking seemed strangely familiar, but I’m not sure how. More noticeably though, was the boy’s familiar tanned skin and dark hair. I wanted to pause and think, but he was expecting my answer with honest eyes so I said, “No, I’m fine! You didn’t run into me that hard haha.”

“Oh good! Are you the teacher? My name is Feliciano; I’m an exchange student from Italy. You can probably tell from my accent though. People say it’s very noticeable. But they also say I’m better at English than my brother though. Oh, where is he?”

“Where is who?” I asked, a bit clouded by the sudden onslaught of information.

“My brother! His name is Lovi and he’s – Oh! There he is!” Feliciano shouted and skipped to the back of the room. I followed his trail to the back of the room, and found that my Lovi is his Lovi! Oh, well that makes sense. They look so alike. Although, watching Feliciano hug a very reluctant Lovi – who was elbowing Felicano’s invading body away – I don’t suppose they’re alike in many other ways.

“Okay, class! My name is Antonio Carriedo, and I am your professor for Introduction to Studio Art.” I offered a reassuring smile, slightly deviating my equal gaze to the back of the room; but unfortunately, seeing the other Italian meeting my gaze instead. I turned around to pick up the stack of syllabi, “I’m going to pass around the syllabus for the class. Most of you are probably experienced artists, so this will be an easy basic class; and for those of you who are beginning, I’m sure this will be a useful foundation course.”

I walked around to each worktable and offered a differing amount of papers. “You’ll have five major projects this semester. One two-dimensional piece – which can be pencil, paint, pastel, etcetera. One multi-media piece, which can combine the various materials in some way.” I walked to the worktable nearest to the cabinets and pass their stack to the closest person. “And one unconventional-material piece, which is pretty self-explanatory.

I reached Lovi’s table and he was still sketching meticulously in his sketchbook. I tried to subtly peak at his drawing, but just as I began to stretch my neck, Lovi’s head shot up, and his black sleeves unfolded to shield the drawing. I met his sparkling brown eyes (no doubt sparkling from anger) with an innocent smile and dropped two syllabi on his table. I continued to iterate the last two pieces – a wooden one and a freeform – distinctly aware of the hot gaze following me the rest of my turn around the classroom.

When I reached my desk I made the final announcement, “So, for this class period you’re free to start sketching ideas, talk to me, or do some research for inspiration. We have art history textbooks in the cupboard here, near my desk. Or you’re free to go to the library and do some research there.” I feel rather confident allowing my students to roam the campus since after all, art is free, and binding them to the classroom seems unfair. As long as they complete the work with the maximum-possible effort then I’m satisfied.

Slowly the class began to disperse. A few asked my permission to go to the library (still too timid not to make me aware), some came to me to bounce off ideas, and the others scatter around the room ogling and picking at supplies. Alfred received some questions, and he enthusiastically offered his opinions. Soon a small line wrapped around Alfred’s chair, all of the students talking at once to catch his attention.

The whole class seemed so active and chaotic, and then, in the very back of the room, there is Lovino quietly sketching. Even Feliciano dashed off somewhere (which I sort of doubt is the library), leaving Lovi as the single movement in the back of the classroom. What’s strange is that, although Lovi doesn’t make a sound, I can’t help but notice him. Somehow, his presence is the loudest: like he is yelling or something. But each time I turn around, he is still sitting there, one hand pressed down to keep the paper still, the other gripped tight to the pencil. Every so often his eyes will flick up, or if I’m lucky, they flick in my direction and I catch a flash of golden-brown. Then at around 10:30, Lovi let out a sigh and clawed his fingers through the waves of his brown hair. But that was the only audible activity he did.

At 10:50, students began putting away materials, packing up and leaving. And at eleven it was only Lovi and I. Even Alfred left to get a hamburger because he was just “dying” without one. Lovi isn’t wearing headphones, so he must have heard everyone leave. Maybe he’s waiting for Feliciano to return?

I’m sitting at my desk, but I don’t know if I should go over to Lovi and ask why he’s still here. That sounds a bit rude, doesn’t it? I mean, I don’t have a class until 12:30 so there’s no reason he can’t be here. Still, maybe I should mention something in case he’s forgetting about another class.

“Hey Lovi!” I called out from across the room. His head whipped around in surprise; I don’t think he was expecting me to call him that. “You know the class is over right?”

I smiled inwardly at his reddening cheeks and furrowing eyebrows. I can see he gripped the pencil tighter. “Are you going to kick me out or something?”

“Of course not,” I said easily, and laughed softly at his reaction. “I was checking to make sure you wouldn’t miss your next class.”

Lovi’s shoulders dropped slightly, and he turned his head back to his drawing. “My next class is here.”

“Oh really? You’re in my painting class? Oh, how wonderful! We have two classes together Lovi!” I cupped my face with my palm and reminisced the thought. But my daydream was short-lived, because immediately I heard a loud wooden thump from across the room.

Lovi had slammed his left fist onto the table, and was leaning forward to the table, heaving heavy, controlled breaths.

I observed his outburst silently, but made a note as I asked, “So are you perchance in my life study class?”

“Fuck!” Lovi gripped his forehead with his right hand, balancing the pencil above his fingers. His eyes were closed and his fingers dug into his scalp – I wish he wouldn’t do that.

“Haha, oh Lovi, are you only taking art classes?”

He grazed his fingers through his hair before turning to me with a fierce glare and red cheeks. “That’s all I want to take.”

“Ah, well. Lucky me then!” I laughed as he rolled his eyes. “So… what other classes are you taking?”

Lovi turned back to the table and pinned his elbows to the table. He looked down intently but made no move to draw again.

“Are you not going to tell me?” I teased, watching with amusement as his emotions danced across his strained muscles. Lovi flicked his eyes to me for a half second, was quiet for another minute, before finally (finally!) speaking again.  
  
“I have…” he began quietly. “3-D desi – fucking dammit!” He slammed his fist to the table as he saw my broadening smile. Then Lovi started muttering Italian obscenities and waving his left hand in the air. His eyes look so wonderful when they’re angry. 

“Come on, what else do you have?” I stifled a girlish giggle. Lovi rolled his eyes at my outburst, but made his usual movements to talk: turning his eyes away and seizing grip of his arms.

“Then I have…sculpture?” Lovi reluctantly met my gaze, but I couldn’t hide my expression quickly enough. “Y-you’re not teaching sculpture?” Lovi’s eyes widened and he examined my crestfallen face.

I felt like I was about to cry. Why? Why wasn’t Lovi in my sculpture class? Oh yeah, I don’t teach sculpture. Oh, why didn’t I learn? But my depression was abruptly ended by the most stunning thing I had ever seen: Lovi smiling. His dark brows were uncrossed, and his eyes were gleaming like burning amber. Although I was a bit hurt by the reason he was smiling, the vision of his red cheeks rounded by a perfect, reckless smile – I was caught breathless.

“Ha! Damn Spaniard! How do you like that?” He pointed his pencil at me. “What? No comeback? No stupid comment? It’s about time.”

I brought my hand to my mouth, but I couldn’t find my voice anywhere. I couldn’t even feel my skin. My whole body felt paralyzed, and my eyes stunned.  

For the remaining two hours, I left Lovi alone. I observed him the entire time, but I couldn’t speak to him. Every motion he made fascinated me, every breath he took drew me in, but I didn’t dare approach him. My racing heart made it painfully plain to me what happened, but I don’t know what to do. 

I’m in love with Lovino.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this pairing. I'm going to try really hard to make this a good story.
> 
> I may add more tags as the story goes on. It depends on if it decides to follow the plan I have for it. So I guess we'll see…


	2. Melancholia I, Albrecht Durer. 1514. Engraving.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Antonio tries to get to know Lovino, and draws something for him. But Lovi doesn't like that.

(Antonio's POV)

 

 

 

Lovi didn’t seem to think much of my sudden silence, or if he did, he didn’t show it. Soon after my revelation, Lovi made the move for his messenger bag and pulled out his iPod and headphones – an indication that he was no longer available to talk to.

That was all fine with me, because I was having an internal crisis. My head was spinning because I was balancing two conflicting emotions. I was happy, so happy, about being in love with Lovino. I love loving, and I want to love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone (if that makes any sense). But…I don’t know if I can do that. Scratch that. I know I can. But should I? Would it be wrong? Although I’m not sure how old he is, I know Lovi is a student, and I’m a teacher. That’s wrong, right? Oh, how can love ever me wrong?

After waving my hands in the air to no one in particular, I leaned back in my chair and stared at the blank ceiling. Okay, well. There’s nothing wrong about loving Lovino, I just can’t have a relationship with him. Is that right? I mean, it’s quite possible that he hates me. Or that he’s not interested. Or he might even have a girlfriend or boyfriend. So, I guess I’ll just love him from the sidelines. Oh, how tragic! Why is our true love doomed from the start?

“ _Bastardo_ ,” I hear a familiar accent trill the “r,” and I dropped my tilted chair to the floor. Lovino has one earpiece out and is glaring at me with dark sparkling eyes (how very mysterious). “Are you having a crisis over there? I can hear you crying through my music.”

“Oh,” I begin, laughing nervously and too, too loudly. “No, no! I’m fine! I just remembered that I forgot…to water my tomato plant! I love that tomato plant so much. I just don’t want it to die! Now I’m so worried.” My hands stopped fluttering to hold my face.

“You like tomatoes?” Lovi asked nonchalantly, as he picked up his pencil again.

“Oh, yes! Who wouldn’t love tomatoes? I love them on my salads, with my steaks, or just as a tasty snack! What about you?”

He turned his head slightly to look at me, but he did it so quickly it was like a strange muscle-twitch. Then, characteristically, his cheeks reddened and he pressed harder onto the pencil. “Yeah…I like them.”

I was about to reply and say – well, I don’t know what – but as soon as I made the move, two students walked through the door. I greeted them, offered them charming smiles, and soon enough another student walked in and another and another. It was almost time for my one o’ clock class.

After what seemed the entirety of the class settled into their seats, I snuck a glance at Lovino to see what he was up to. He was still sitting, one knee tucked under his chest, right arm consistently moving, and left arm hooked around the sketchbook protectively – all alone in the back of the room. He took out his headphones, and laid his iPhone on the table, outside of his “drawing zone.”

He never looked up at me, not when I began talking to the class, nor when I passed out the syllabi to the classes. I even lingered a few seconds longer at his table, hoping he would flash his brilliant, bronze eyes in my direction. But he didn’t. And I, for fear of seeming awkward, was forced to continue travelling around the classroom.

As I was finishing my speech to the class I felt a familiar weight slam into my back, and I stumbled forward a few feet, catching my balance on the ridge of some students’ desk. Sure enough, my brief pang of pain was interrupted by a cheerful:

“Oh no! I did it again! _Scusa, scusa_! I’m sorry Toni, I was in a hurry and I didn’t look at where I was going! I hope you’re okay! You’re okay, aren’t you? You’re not hurt right? Oh, you don’t look hurt. That’s good, because or else I would’ve felt bad. But I’m pretty light, so I’m sure I won’t bruise you. You look pretty strong!”

Feliciano quickly approached me as he was talking, grasping at me arm and inspecting by abdomen. Which doesn’t really make much sense, because he hit me in the back –

“You see I was running late because I went to pick up food for my _fratello_! He’s so picky; he can’t eat anything that I don’t cook. And he usually eats around noon, so I’m sure he’s starving. Oh, there he is now! I’m going to go give him his lunch, but I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

With that, Feliciano skipped to the back of the room, red backpack bouncing, grinning and laughing as Lovi brought both knees to his chest and buried his face in his hands. Feli unzipped his backpack and placed two containers of Tupperware onto the table, as well as two sets of silverware, and two tumblers filled with something that I’m pretty sure isn’t cranberry juice. He continued to set the table happily, apparently accustomed to Lovino’s low rumble of what I am ninety-five percent certain were Italian swear words. But, Feliciano was probably right, because as soon as their meals were set, and Lovino started eating his spaghetti and tomato sauce, he seemed to calm down.

So, as unorthodox as it was, I allowed Feliciano and Lovi to have their late lunch, as the other students shuffled in and out, in the same methods as the previous class. I would look over to Lovi and Feli as often as I could. Feli appeared to do most of the talking while they ate; Lovi seemed content to listen, flick his eyes up once in a while, and make deliberate efforts to twirl his spaghetti neatly. Around 1:40, Lovi finished his meal – he’s a very slow eater – and as Feli packed up the used Tupperware, Lovi opened up the sketchbook and returned to monstrously drawing up the paper.

I sighed quietly. I’m guessing that’s the last activity I’m going to get out of Lovi this period. And now I’m stuck talking to so many students because Alfred doesn’t T.A. this class. I stare desperately in Lovi’s direction and run my fingers through my hair. And worst of all, I still have no idea what he’s sketching! Arrgh!

“Um, Professor Carriedo? Are you okay?”  
 

~  
 

My painting class finished (eventually), but it was agonizingly slow when Lovi wouldn’t let me within a two-foot perimeter of him. As the day went on he became more and more paranoid of me catching his drawing, although I have no idea why since he made it PRETTY MUCH IMPOSSIBLE.

I suppose it might have been partially my fault. Towards hour number two, I saw Lovi had his headphones in, so I seized the opportunity and maneuvered quietly to his desk, peered over his shoulder to see a piece of his drawing. Alas, it was to know avail. Not only did Feli give my location away with a high-pitched giggle and ridiculous smile, which lead Lovi to slam the sketchbook shut, spin around in his chair, and swing a fist in my direction. But the corner of the page I did see…made no sense. Lines can be sort of vague when taken out of context.

After the class ended, Lovi left with them – I guess he got tired of sitting in place for several hours – taking his sketchbook (which is actually mine) and messenger bag with him. I managed to say a happy goodbye to him as he stalked out the door, but all I got in return was “I’m just going to the bathroom, so make sure no one takes my seat… _Bastardo_.” Which was, of course, accompanied by a scoff and glare, as well as an instinctive clenching of the sketchbook and subtle sway away from me. There are many things I have listed that I wish Lovi wouldn’t do. But at the same time, he’s so cuuuuutttee!  
  


~  
 

He did come back. But he came back about twenty minutes later with a Starbucks coffee balanced in one hand, and his sketchbook balanced precariously atop of his messenger bag under the other arm. I tried to surprise him when he returned, but I didn’t receive the reaction I was hoping for.

When Lovi came in I was sitting in his chair at the table, but he stopped in his tracks upon seeing me, so I called out to him. “Hey Lovi! Oh, you got coffee! You should’ve gotten me some. That smells wonderful.”

He stayed rooted to his ground near the door, slowly lowering his eyebrows and narrowing his eyes. “What are you doing in my seat?” He deadpanned.

“Oh, well I just thought I would keep your seat warm for you!” I replied, laughing at his disgusted reaction. I glanced down at the desk and lifted up a sheet of paper to him. “Look, I drew this for you!”

Lovi blinked out of his simmer, and before he had a chance to contort his face to distrust, I saw (I know I did!) his face soften and a small sparkle of surprise light his eyes. But a second later, Lovi was approaching me like a wild coyote, head down, waves of dark hair shifting over his right eyebrow, while making cautious steps to the desk. He didn’t look at the drawing right away, and instead took special care placing the sketchbook on Feli’s seat, and his messenger bag on top of it. Then, he gingerly laid his coffee on the table, accidentally making eye contact with me, and luckily (for me), holding it until he finished setting his cup. Finally, he began making a great show of sliding my drawing off the table and lifting it to his eyes.

He purposefully hid his face behind the paper but, immediately upon doing so, I heard a short snort, which was probably the stifled beginning to his laugh. Lovino caught it though, and spent another good twenty seconds hiding behind my drawing, no doubt regaining his composure. Oh, how I wanted to see his smile again!

But suddenly, he slammed my drawing onto the table and yelled, “What is this crap?”

I wasn’t able to hide my smile, but I tried to make a dramatic show of being faux-offended, and replied, “Oh, Lovi! How could you ask me that? I spent twenty minutes drawing that picture of you eating a tomato.”

“I’m smiling.” His forehead creased in an effort to remain angry, but the corner of his lip twitched upward.

“Because you’re cute when you smile!”

“No, I’m not. And I don’t smile.” Despite his efforts, his lips stretched further to his blushing cheeks.

“Yes, you are Lovi! You’re very cute. And you’re smiling now!” I added teasingly, laughing as his smile vanished underneath his hand.

At first, he remained still from embarrassment, but as I continued laughing, he lowered his hand and stared down at me with vengeful eyes. My laughing died down to sparse chuckles underneath Lovi’s angry aura, and though I’m sure he intended to make me stop altogether, I couldn’t suppress my smile.

Lovi didn’t like this apparently, so he set my drawing on the table, then extended his slender fingers to gracefully curl around the Starbucks coffee cup and lift it ceremoniously from the table. He sipped it once, twice, then abruptly poured the rest of the coffee onto the table, staining his portrait in the process.

“Lovi!” I exclaimed as I scooted out of my chair and away from the flow of hot coffee. “Why did you do that?”

Lovi dropped the empty cup to the floor and crossed his arms. “That’s what happens to shitty drawings.”

“They get coffee dumped on them?” I asked dumbly.

“No!” He protested, digging his nails into his biceps. “They just get destroyed in general!”

“Ah,” I began, unsure of what the mood is. But I decided to keep Lovi talking and ask, “Why?”

He blinked and raised his eyebrows. “Huh?”

“Why do you need to destroy bad drawings? Isn’t that a bit harsh?” I looked at him intently, curious to know the answer. Lovi’s brief moment of confidence was already fading, and as his cheeks reddened, his eyes begin shining, and his fingers strengthened their hold.

“No, not really. But…practice makes perfect. So you…just have to keep trying until you get it right.” His voice became quieter as he continued talking, so I jumped the chair forward a bit while he was talking to catch his accented English.

“Yeah, but, you don’t need to destroy the drawings that aren’t perfect. Can’t you just keep them and move forward?” I rested my chin in my palm and wait patiently for Lovi to answer. I know he’s not talking about my drawing now, he’s talking about destroying his own artwork.

“Well, I can’t,” he said simply, turning his head away from me. He shut his eyes violently for a moment then opened them and continued, “It’s just – every time I see my drawings, I – I can’t help but look at the flaws. All I see are the mistakes, and it just gets me so…angry!” Towards the end, Lovino raked his fingers through his dark hair, and I could hear his nails graze his scalp.

“Lovino,” I began seriously. “Do you destroy your drawings often?”

He flinched noticeably, but managed to croak, “Well, I – um…”

I stand up and walk over to him, but he matches my steps forward by backing up into Feli’s chair, then correcting his escape to back up into the wall. It all seems rather silly though, because in a few strides I was towering over him by the wall. Like a boy who was caught pulling his sister’s hair, Lovi slumped and hid his arms behind his back, whilst staring fervently at the ground.

I don’t care about him staining my drawing, but I don’t like the sound of Lovi ripping or throwing away his art in a fit of anger. I just want to ask him not to hurt himself this way; I’m sure he regrets it after he does it. He probably just gets so caught up in his emotions he can’t help himself.

I waited for him to look up at me, but he stubbornly kept his eyes locked on his shoes. I sighed audibly and said, “Lovi, look at me.”

Lovi made no move except the soft rise fall of his chest.

“Lovino…” I warned, channeling my more intimidating tone of voice. He slowly lifted his head, and I saw the defiant glow of his brown eyes burn through his dark lashes. “If you really don’t like your drawings, try giving them to other people. That way your hard work won’t be for nothing.” He flicked his eyes away with a frown so I added, “And I’m sure they’d appreciate it. If you can’t think of anyone to give them to, give them to me! I’m sure I’ll love whatever you draw.”

It was silent for a while, or at least it felt like a while, before Lovino let out a few breathy laughs and asked, “How can you say that?” He rose from his slump and turned to face me again. “You don’t even know me. You’ve never seen my art, you don’t know anything about me.” He pushes me forward from the wall, until I, coincidentally, hit Feli’s chair, and was forced to alter my steps too. “Where do you go off making soppy speeches and promises for?” Lovi stopped walking forward, and I in turn was able to stop fumbling backwards. He smiled smugly and finished with, “Stupid bastard.”

“I’m sorry?” I say slowly, feeling a grin widen on my face in response.

Lovi curbed his smile, slid his sketchbook from underneath his messenger bag, and continued walking past me, towards the door. I heard him mutter a “whatever” as he brushed past me; then as he neared the door, he announced more loudly, “That mess better be cleaned up when I get back.”

“Wait,” I called out to him, before he slipped out the door. “Does this mean you’ll do what I ask?”

He stopped at the doorway, left hand poised on the frame, and didn’t turn around. Then I heard a soft, but distinct accent reply, “We’ll see…” And his figure disappeared around the corner.  
 

~  
 

At five o’ clock, my life study class started, and fifteen minutes later, Feliciano and Lovino walked in. Thankfully, Feli didn’t bump into me, and instead handed me a coffee that had “sorry” scribbled in cursive. I tried to ask him why, but he only winked in reply. I don’t know what that was supposed to mean.

Lovino simply treaded past me, one arm hooked around the sketchbook, and the other hand shoved in his jean pocket. Soon enough, we were back in the same pattern. Lovi and Feli sat in the back of the room, students shuffled in and out, and I remained occupied until the end of class. As much as I wished for Lovi to walk up to me and strike up a conversation, I knew better than to expect that. So when seven o’ clock was only minutes away, and Lovino was the only one left loitering the classroom, I had already rehearsed my cheerful goodbye for him, knowing it would be one-sided.

But as I was sitting down distracted by a strange text message I got from Gilbert, Lovino slammed the sketchbook onto my desk with a slap and yelled, “Here bastard. Keep it.”

I snapped to attention, but was still a little confused by the sudden turn of events. I looked to Lovino for an explanation, but he had his face turned away and was making an obvious show of tapping his foot.

So I decided not to question my luck, and opened the sketchbook. I stared intently at it for a minute, and after the first ten seconds I felt Lovino shift his gaze to me. I couldn’t even hear him breathe. As cute as he was when he was nervous, I didn’t want him fainting, so I lowered the sketchbook to give him my opinion.

“Oh, Lovino,” I begin, savoring his curious expression. “I love it! You’re so talented.”

His eyes widened considerably, and his face reddened far more than he had today (if that was even possible); and in response he covered part of his face with his hand and turned away.

It didn’t seem like he could find his voice, so I continued with a smile, “Thank you for giving it to me. I’ll treasure it with all of my heart!”

He gaped and gave a few false starts to a reply before finally stuttering, “I-idiot! It’s not that great. You have no taste.” He wavered a moment – I’m sure he was contemplating snatching the sketchbook from my hands, but I held it tight – before finally throwing his hands up in the air and saying, “Oh, whatever. You wanted it. Use it as firewood for all I care.” And he huffed out of the room without saying goodbye.

I yelled an " _adios_ " to him, which he might or might not of heard depending on the speed he fled the building; but it made me feel better regardless. I laughed softly to myself and smiled at Lovi’s drawing. I’m pretty sure the boy underneath the tree is supposed to be him, though his face and body are largely hidden in the shadows. And maybe the vineyard in the background is his farm in Italy. He really is talented. All of the detail is meticulously arranged. It sort of reminds me of Albrecht Durer’s work.

But more than anything, he’s so cuuuuuutee! And I get to see him five days a week now. Hopefully he’ll come to like me at some point. Maybe he’ll call me Toni soon!

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _bastardo_ \- bastard  
>  _scusa_ \- sorry  
>  _fratello_ \- brother
> 
> Once again, I started with one thing in mind and ended up somewhere completely different. Oh well, at least we finally finished the first day of school?? haha, I'm sorry that took so long. I promise time will move along at a more reasonable pace from now on. 
> 
> I originally intended this fic to be sort of dark, but every time I sit down and write something I always skew it towards fluffy. Why???  
> Well, hopefully whatever it ends up being it'll be okay. 
> 
> To everyone who has read so far, thank you! I'll try to make it decent and update sort of regularly. That doesn't sound promising, does it haha…
> 
> Also, though I'll continue with the art work chapter titles, I don't know if I'll manage to reference it directly like I do with my other fic. Just the way Antonio talks and thinks makes it hard to do. So it'll just have to be a subtle reference most of the time.


	3. Jealousy, Edvard Munch. 1907. Oil on Canvas. (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First projects are due today, and Feli takes Lovi out for coffee. Not fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a while, and I'm soooo sorry. But in recompense I have a long chapter of fluff, GERITAAA, and the inevitable angst. 
> 
> And even better... it's Lovi's POV! But beware of his language.
> 
> Ludwig - 21, Francis - 24/25, Gilbert - 27

(Lovino's POV)

 

 

 

That damn Spanish bastard.

Thanks to him, the past two weeks have gone by very annoyingly. That’s the only way to put it. I think the biggest problem I have is that I see him all the damn time. Monday, Wednesday and Friday I see him for six consistent hours, and Tuesday and Thursday, I get no break, and have to experience his frustratingly unwavering, happiness for another three. God fucking damn it.

I don’t know what I hate more: the way Antonio always makes an effort to talk to me, to smile at me with his easy smile, sparkling, green eyes, and smooth Spanish accent…Or my reaction to it all. No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop my heartbeat from picking up whenever I enter the studio, or stop my eyes from frantically darting around, searching for his tall, tan figure. Even when I’m drawing, I’ve developed this damned... _compulsion_ to flick my eyes up every five or ten minutes to see what he’s up to. If Antonio’s talking to Alfred, that annoyingly loud American, I quietly tap my iPhone and pause my music, so I can hear his warm, musical laugh. And somehow, I find myself smiling just at the sound of it…Which pisses me the hell off, because I can’t draw straight.

During the first week, Feliciano actually managed to attend all of his classes, even if he was late every, damn time. So for every class that we had together, we sat next to each other; mostly due to my own insistence that we sit with each other. I don’t want to sit next to some American strangers.

But last week, for whatever reason, Feliciano became more and more elusive; frequently skipping part, or all of his classes, to go “get some coffee,” whatever the hell that means. I know what it meant for me, it meant an open invitation for the Spanish bastard to sit across from me, where Feli normally sits. He never sits there for very long, only for ten minutes or so, but each time it feels like a fucking hour. I don’t know what to do when he sits down, all curly, brown hair, and white, shining teeth, and starts talking random shit. Like last Friday for example, Antonio spent two full minutes staring at me drawing, then out of the blue, asks:

“Hey Lovi, where do you live in Italy?”

Since I was cornered I felt forced to respond. So as I was dusting away extra eraser shavings I answered, “Um, _Firenze_ …”

“Oh, really? I went there on vacation a few summers ago with my friends! I wonder if we passed each other on the streets. Do you think that’s possible?” He looked at me dreamily, and I blushed at his stupid fantasies.

“Doubt it,” I deadpanned, still painfully aware of the lingering blush on my cheeks.

Antonio pretended to be shocked – or maybe he really is that dumb – and stared at me with a pout before droning, “Awwww Lovi! Don’t be like that. It’s possible! Think carefully. During the first week of July, two summers ago, do you remember seeing an attractive, dark Spaniard wearing – um – shorts…yeah, I think I wore shorts the whole week. And I was probably walking with a flamboyant, blonde guy –“

“Alfred?” I interrupted in disbelief. I never thought of him as flamboyant. Arrogant, yes, but for God’s sake he wears fucking overalls to class!

“No, this is my friend Francis.” Antonio laughed, his eyes looked away from me briefly, before returning with a newfound glitter. “He’s actually a graduate student here. Maybe you can meet him one day! He’s studying fashion, and since you’re Italian you guys might get along –”

“I don’t care about meeting some sissy, fashion guy!” I half-yelled, stifling my frustration midway after recalling there were still a few stragglers in the classroom. I looked down at my paper, feeling slightly guilty for lashing at Antonio, and huffed, “Weren’t you in the middle of another story?”

His eyes brightened with recognition, and he resumed his story with a wave of his hand.

“Yeah, as I was saying, you would’ve probably see me with Francis, and another guy, this one a platinum blonde – he’d probably look like an albino from afar. He’s very loud and sings a lot; I think he was singing a lot at the bars we went to. He’s in a band, you know! Actually, there’s this pretty funny story where…”

Antonio continued to prattle on about details, like what he think they wore each day of the week, what restaurants they went to, the churches they visited, while still managing to mix in multiple “pretty funny” stories he and _Francis_ and _Gil_ went through. For some reason, as Antonio continued telling his story and laughing at his memories, I found myself growing increasingly and increasingly quiet. The thought of him, prancing around Firenze with his undoubtedly charming, and talented, and good-looking friends pointed out how little about Antonio I knew about, and how small of a part I was in his life. Oh, for God’s sake, I'm his student! Why the hell do I even care?

Eventually, Antonio noticed I shut down, and for once, he decided to be intuitive and change the subject.

“So Lovino, when did you start drawing?”

“I’ve always done it,” I said automatically, refusing to give into his attempts at conversation.

“Why’d you start?” He continued, blatantly ignoring my clipped answer.

Quietly, I mumbled, “I don’t know, because it was preschool and we had to…”

“Why’d you continue to do it?” He pressed, and I swear I could hear a smile in his voice. Why the hell was he smiling?

I stared dumbly at my sketch for a while, debating whether I should answer honestly, make something up, or just answer with an “I don’t know.” I glanced around the room once to make sure no one was too close, and answered slowly, “It’s a lot easier than talking.”

“Oh, do you not like to talk?” Antonio asked, and this time I looked up to confirm that damnable smile. I don’t see what’s so funny about this.

“What the hell do you think?” I burst out, suddenly indifferent to the others in the room.

He kept an even gaze with me, and I saw his eyes soften thoughtfully. I think the only thing that’s worse than a smiling Antonio, is a quiet Antonio. It freaks me out when he goes all philosophical, and I felt my palms start to sweat. Finally, he blinked, and replied, “Hmm, I think you’re going to be a great artist, Lovi.”

“W-where the hell did that come from?” I stuttered.

“Well, I just think art is more important to you than it is to most people. You need it to express yourself, right? So you’re very passionate about it and work very hard at it.”

Something about the way Antonio looked at me as he was saying those ridiculously stupid, cheesy lines, made me want to cry – for once, I felt like someone was actually seeing me. But before I could talk, I glanced away to blink the tears back into my eye (because that’s possible), and choked down the knot in my throat. Then I mumbled, “I’m not as talented as Feliciano though…”

“Well, I haven’t seen Feliciano’s work yet, so I can’t give you my opinion, but from what I can tell…You love it more. So eventually you’ll probably be the greater artist.” He gave me a ridiculous, exaggerated wink and I noticed his cheeks were lightly dusted in a light blush. “Besides, Feliciano looks like the type of person who has a lot of interests. He might very well decide to do something else one day. It doesn’t look like art is his whole life.”

I grunted in response, and decided not to add my cynical commentary. Antonio doesn’t know what he’s talking about until he sees Feliciano’s artwork. Feli’s a prodigy; everyone has always said so. Art comes so easily to him. He was able to pick up painting, sculpting, pastels, printmaking, and almost everything else after just reading a book. That’s why _Nonno_ insisted he receive formal training as an artist, and that’s why we’re in America. _Nonno_ didn’t think I would be able to make it in to an art school, because I’m not as good as Feliciano, but he was prepared to send me wherever Feliciano decided to go anyway, since Feliciano needed someone to watch out for him. And it’s true, Feliciano does need someone to keep care of him, so I would’ve come to New York, even if I hadn’t gotten in. But I’m glad I did, just so I can rub it in _Nonno’s_ face.

I’ve actually been feeling rather confident lately – it’s probably that Spanish bastard’s fault. He always insists on seeing my artwork, and goes over the top in his praise for it; it’s so damn embarrassing, I don’t know how to react to compliments. I end up blushing furiously, cursing, and avoiding eye contact, as part of my three-step coping process. But today, all of that built-up confidence is going to crash and burn, I just know it.

Today is Monday of the third week in school, and for most of my art classes (those I have with Antonio), our first projects are due. So now, Antonio will finally be able to compare my art with Feliciano and realize what an idiot he’s been for boosting my confidence, and calling me a “natural artist,” and all that other crap. Worst part of it is that even I don’t know what Feliciano’s been up to, so I’m not mentally prepared for the inevitable display of sparkling grandeur.

I sneak a nervous glance at Feliciano’s large, black portfolio, resting on our kitchen counter, and sigh. I could ask Feli to show me, I know he would; he already asked me several times to look over his work. But I turned him down every time: I know it’ll just get me depressed.

“Vee~ _fratello_! Can we stop at Starbucks on the way to class?” I heard Feli call out from his room.

“Again? You already had coffee this morning!” I yelled back, as I started preparing for the inevitable trek; sliding my black, Diesel leather jacket over my red, long-sleeved t-shirt, and slipping on my black converse.

“Aww, you can never have too much coffee!” I heard Feliciano’s light steps echo down the hall, until he skipped into the kitchen brightly dressed in a warm, yellow button down, rolled up at the sleeves (like always), layered with a champagne colored waistcoat, and various types of bracelets bouncing at his wrists. As he strode to the marble countertop to pick up his portfolio, I noticed he was wearing his favorite pair of Armani jeans, cuffed above the ankles, and his shiniest bronze-toned oxfords. What the –

“Why the hell are you so dressed up?” I shouted at him, swinging around in my stool to face him, further scrutinizing his perfectly styled hair (except for the curl of course), and sparkling diamond earrings.

Feli made a face and replied, “I don’t know what you’re talking about~! I always dress like this.” He danced to the door, portfolio in hand, and began turning the knob. “Come on Lovi, or else we’ll be late!”

“It’s fucking 7:30! Class starts at nine, and Starbucks is just across the street from the school!” I yelled back at him, as I already resigned to picking up my messenger bag, and stomping to the door.

“Mmm, I go to a different one. It’s a little further away~” Feliciano sing-songed, and bounded down the long staircase. Why the hell did he ask _Nonno_ for a penthouse apartment?

“How far is a ‘little further’?” I demanded, trudging on each step.

“Not too far, I promise!” Feliciano smiled at me, golden-brown eyes sparkling. Why can’t I be so damn happy?

I grumbled a surrendered “fine” and followed him into the fancy lobby, rolling my eyes every time Feliciano waved a “hello” to an employee, and slapped my palm to my forehead when he started a conversation with the doorman. Eventually, we managed to make it out of the well-to-do apartment complex, and into the bustling, insanely crowded, New York sidewalks. One of the main reasons we chose this place was because it was close to the school; that, and it had an amazing, decked out kitchen. So right now, as we’re marching in the complete opposite direction, I can’t help but groan at the prospect of so much exercise. I’m already exhausted from camping out in the art studio all weekend; I can’t handle a hike Monday morning. At least we’re doing this for coffee. It better be some damned good coffee too.

Feli and I didn’t share much of a conversation on the way, which is strange because, although I’m bad at talking, usually Feliciano is able to ramble on about random nonsense endlessly. Whatever, I have my own problems to think about.

“Vee~we’re here!” I heard Feliciano giggle, running ahead to pull open the door for me.

I walked inside with another roll of my eyes, and sighed a fake “great.” Feliciano skips to my side instantly, and I follow his skip to the line, which was winding its way around the tables. Great.

“So what are you getting?” I asked, already bored. I hate chain restaurants. When Feliciano doesn’t answer, I nudged him with my elbow and asked again, “Hey, what are you getting?”

Feliciano briefly flit his eyes over my face and mumbled a “ _non lo so_ ” before returning his attention to the counter, balancing on his tiptoes to look over the other people’s heads.

“What the hell are you looking at?” I hissed at him, imitating his line of sight to catch anything particular.

“Oh, nothing – Aha!” Feliciano dropped his heels to the floor and smiled at me. “I think I’ll get a cappuccino.”

“Hmph, well I guess I’ll get the usual.” I say, still obsessively staring at the counter. What was Feliciano looking at?

“Lovi?” I heard a familiar voice exclaim, and my heart skipped a beat. Very slowly, I turn my head around to see the exact face I have been dreading all weekend. Antonio smiles down at me, his green eyes too bright and dazzling for a Monday morning (what is with everyone?), and asked, “Why are you here?”

After a moment of stunned pause, I remember to lower my head, glare, and respond sarcastically, “Why else would I be here? I wanted coffee!” I stepped forward in line automatically.

“Oh, and what do we have here? Is this your new boyfriend, Toni?” I redden ten-fold at the combination of “your” and “boyfriend” that it takes me a few hazy seconds to hone in on the snotty, French accent. He’s blonde, with long, well-kept hair; and dressed to the nines in a black, tailored suit, though absent of any tie, with the top buttons of his shirt undone.

“Wh-Who the hell are you?” I stuttered, drawing my hands to my face to cool my cheeks down.

“Ah, have you not heard of me already?” He smiled easily, and offered me a seductive, blue-eyed gaze.

“I told you about him Lovino! This is Francis; he’s the fashion graduate.” Antonio smiled at me, apparently unfazed by the French bastard’s statement, and his movements closing in on me. Oh, it's the flamboyant, French-Canadian blonde from the stories.

“Lovino! Such a beautiful name, for such a beautiful boy!” He extended his arm to caress my cheek, and before I registered what happened, Antonio had already grabbed Francis’s forearm, and interrupted him with a much less happy-go-lucky smile than I was accustomed to.

“He also has a brother – _a twin_ – you should meet him, I’m sure the two of you would get along amazingly.” Antonio shared a level stare with Francis, much more serious than I had ever seen him, which made me uneasy, so I decided to break the tension.

“Bastard, don’t go selling my _fratello_ off to random weirdos! This guy is nowhere near good enough for him.” I pointed accusingly at Francis, and waited for Antonio to finally release his hold of him.

Quickly, Antonio let go and laughed a startlingly, _forced_ laugh, “Ah, I guess you’re right Lovi! Francis probably isn’t even Feli’s type.”

“Hmm, well I don’t know about that,” Francis piped up, grinning mischievously at something in the distance. “It looks like he has a thing for blondes.”

“What the hell are you ta –” My voice trailed off as I turned around to see what he was looking at. I didn’t even half to see what was going on, as soon as I heard the ring of Feli’s laugh, I muttered an “oh shit” under my breath and sped to the register, closing the giant gap in the line I had neglected.

Feli was leaning over the desk, left hand brushing through his hair, eyes twinkling, and although I didn’t catch what he was saying because he was talking so fast, I bet it was something meaningless and flirtatious. Great, Feli has another crush. I shove my way to the register, and immediately prepare to stare down the bastard. Turns out, I had to look up, because he was very, very tall this blonde guy. Taller than Antonio was the first thing that came to mind – and it pissed me off that he was the first person I thought of. The blonde bastard looked very serious, to the point of constipated, but also slightly flustered; no doubt Feli was working his charms on him. He was still blushing slightly when he turned his focus on me, but in a flash he regained composure, and asked mechanically, “And what will you have today?”

Right, well see if you can handle this blondie.“I’ll have a grande hazelnut macchiato, double shot of espresso, soy milk, no foam, extra hazelnut drizzle.”

He didn’t even blink before replying with a level, “Okay, and is this order toge –”

“You know what? I changed my mind.” I interrupt him, suddenly wide-awake by the adrenaline pumping through my veins. “I’ll have a venti, non fat, no foam, no water, six pump, extra hot, chai tea latte.”

The blonde bastard waited a moment, before replying, “And will this order be together?”

“Well, actu –” I heard Feli pipe up, but I shut him down before he can distract the blonde giant’s attention away from me.

“Yes, together.”

I hand him my credit card before he bothers to announce the price, and snatch the receipt from him quickly, giving him one last dirty look before ambling over to the pick-up counter. I overhear Feliciano finish a hurried, “Sorry, my brother’s in a bad mood this morning,” and strum my fingers on the countertop in frustration. But before I could say anything, Feliciano made the first move with a flick to my ear.

“Hey!” I snapped as I met Feli’s rare serious face.

“What was that?” He whispered harshly, knitting his eyebrows in effort to seem angry.

“What? I should be asking you that! Who is that guy?”

And just like that, Feli’s face completely relaxed, and he dreamily looked in the blonde bastard’s direction. “Oh, that’s Ludwig. He works here.”

“Yeah, I can see that. Is that the only reason we walked over here?” I whispered back furiously, flicking my eyes up when I heard Antonio start his order. Oh, he drinks a cappuccino. That sounds like him.

“Yes!” Feli exclaimed; his hands open in a broad Italian gesture. “I’ve been coming here everyday trying to get his attention, but he never notices me!” He pouted and cast a despairing glance at Ludwig, while he’s preparing our order.

“Is that why you’re so dressed up?” I demanded, already well aware of the answer.

“Yes! I’ve tried everything. But he never notices me, or starts a conversation. I even visit his second job sometimes, at the gym.”

“At the gym?” I asked half-surprised, and half-worried.

“Yeah, he teaches a strength class called Bodypump! It’s actually really fun!” He caught my anxious stare and continued encouragingly, “Don’t worry though! Ludwig’s a med-student, so if anything happens, he’ll save me!”

My eyebrows eased up a bit, but I criticized him, saying, “You’re too weak to be lifting weights.” _And you have asthma_ , I wanted to add, but he hates it when I use that against him.

“Oh, don’t worry! Everyone lifts weights that are right for them. Ludwig gave me the lightest ones…though he didn’t even make eye contact.” Feli started to pout again, and I was beginning to worry he might actually cry, so I dug deep to find the honesty and kindness within me and be a decent brother for once.

“Feli, do you think he hates you?” I asked slightly exasperated.

“No, I just think he doesn’t remember me.”

I scanned behind the counter to see a pair of blue eyes poised in our direction, more specifically in Feli’s, and I smirk knowingly, “Mmm, I don’t think so. I think he’s just pretending.”

“R-really? Why do you say that?” Feliciano widened his eyes, and already the corners of his lips were twitching into a smile.

“Well, whenever you look away, he’s looking at you. That’s one clue. He was also blushing when I caught you two at the register…”

“No, he’s always like that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him – Ooooh!” Feliciano clapped his hands excitedly, and I caught Francis and Antonio giggling at us. After I sent them a death glare I saw Feliciano looking perplexed. “But then, why hasn’t he said anything to me?”

I rolled my eyes at Feli’s ignorance. “Idiot, he’s probably really shy.”

“Oh, do you think so?” Feli looked at Ludwig adjusting the lids on the drinks and puckered his lips in thought. “But he’s so tall and strong, how could he be shy?”

“Maybe he’s just shy about love-stuff. He looks more like the serious type than a romantic.” I subconsciously glanced at Antonio when I said romantic, and panic when I noticed he was staring back at me. For some reason, Antonio took this as a cue to walk over, and I tried desperately to purposefully halt my blushing, but to no avail.

“Feli, are you having romantic troubles?” Antonio asked curiously, smiling only at my brother, and completely ignoring me now, damn it.

“Oh, Toni! You must be good at this! How do I get Ludwig to talk to me without scaring him?” Feliciano beamed at Antonio excitedly, flashing his light brown eyes and childish smile.

“Well Feli, with someone like Ludwig – who I know pretty well – I would just be direct. He’s not very good and reading between the lines. So, just walk up to him and ask him to meet you someplace.” Antonio smiled at him, but before Feliciano could catch Ludwig’s attention, Antonio leaned near Feliciano’s ear and whispered another series of hushed words, too quiet for me to hear. Then he gave Feliciano that stupid, exaggerated wink I saw on Friday, and motioned for him to talk to Ludwig, who was already placing our drinks on the counter.

“Hey –” I started to approach the blonde bastard, but before I made one step forward, Antonio wrenched me backwards, with a hard grip on my arm. “Hey, you bastard! What are you doing? That hurts! Let me go!” I tried to beat on his chest with my fists, but he immediately lowered his face to my own (way, way too close) and held one finger to his lips.

“Shh, Lovi. Let Feliciano talk to Ludwig on his own, he doesn’t need your help.”

“My WHAT?” I yelled louder, trying to catch Feli’s attention and annoy Antonio at the same time. My eyes dart in Feli’s direction quickly and notice he’s still twirling his hair, so I shifted my eyes to Antonio’s and tried again, “Who said I wanted to help Feli win over his new crush? It’s going to be the same thing all over again!”

Antonio knitted his eyebrows together, apparently processing information that his Spanish brain was too lazy to piece together, but when he opened his mouth to talk, suddenly another voice interrupted.

“Hey Toni! Sorry I’m late! Have you been missing my awesomeness?” A shorter (but unfortunately, still taller than me), platinum blonde gave Antonio a loud slap to the back, and a crooked grin. God, he’s pale. He almost looks like an albin – shit.

“Ah, Gilbert! I was wondering if you weren’t going to make it. _Antoine_ and I already ordered.” Francis spoke up from his seat at the table beside us.

“Fine with me. Luddy starts whipping my order up the moment his awesome brother walks through the door!" Gilbert waved rapidly to Ludwig's red, flustered face; then proceeded to make random hand gestures. Which I guess were some sort of code? Or an American thing? I started to zone out and pay attention to how close I was to Antonio; I could smell the paint soap on him. Fortunately, he was talking to Gilbert, so he didn't notice my face redden ten fold. But as I was pressing my free, cool hand to my cheeks, I caught Gilbert staring down at me. Oh, I guess he just noticed. "Hey, who’s this guy? He’s not joining our ‘bad touch breakfast’ right?” Gilbert laughed maniacally and looked at Francis and Antonio for some sort of signal.

But I didn’t want to wait for Antonio to publicly humiliate me in front of his friends and downgrade me to “just a student,” or “some guy I know,” so I jerked my arm free from Antonio’s grip and uttered a distinct, “No.” Then stalked away in Feli's direction.

I wanted to avoid their faces, so I rushed to Feliciano’s side, who was thankfully not at the counter anymore, and standing at the milk and sugar table. Maybe I can convince Feli to leave with me now and go to the art studio with me. I just want to sit in peace and quiet with my art supplies and not have to deal with all of these goddamn people and their goddamn emotions.

“Hey Feli, did you get our drinks?” I asked quickly, watching him add Splenda into both cups.

“Yep, I did!” He said happily, stirring my drink a few times, before capping it with the plastic lid.

“Great,” I started, grabbing my drink from him hastily, and adding, “Because I was thinking maybe –”

“Ludwig is going to join me for coffee!” Feliciano squealed, dazzling me with a bright smile.

“What?” I asked dumbly, not sure which negative emotion to feel right now. So in one day I’m going to be rejected by the only two people I like. Scratch that. One person. Feliciano. I do not like that annoying, Spanish bastard. I hate him.

“Yeah, I asked him if he had time to explain his job to me, because I was thinking of working here, and he said he went on break in five minutes! Isn’t that exciting?” He abandoned his open drink at the table and enveloped me in an awkward hug. Awkward for me at least, because I was balancing a hot drink, and trying to avoid choking on Feli’s hair.

“You’re getting a job?” My voice doesn’t sound right, it sounds sort of distant, but Feli doesn’t seem to notice and releases me so I can see his eyes shine with stupid, lighthearted, happiness.

“Vee~Maybe! I mainly just wanted an excuse to talk to him, but it also seems sort of fun! And I could spend more time with Ludwig that way!” He turned back to the table and closed the lid on his drink.

I loitered behind Feli for a moment, unsure if I should be selfish and drag him away from Ludwig, or just leave and let him be happy. I end up deciding its better for everyone if I leave, so I tap Feli on the shoulder to get his attention, and say in the most normal voice I can muster, “I’m going on ahead to the studio. I’ll see you later.”

“What? Why don’t you go join Antonio and his friends?” Feli exclaimed, and it briefly crossed my mind that this whole thing was some sort of elaborate set-up.

But I sighed at my stupidity, and, because I currently lacked the energy to be an Italian hothead, I harshly mumbled, “As if I would sit with that stupid bastard…” Then I walked quickly and efficiently through the building, navigating myself far away from Antonio’s table – though I did sneak a glance to see them laughing together – and rushed out the door.

Ugh, I hate this. I hate this so much.

I stand outside the Starbucks entrance for a few moments, breathing shakily into the air, before sighing again, and beginning my resigned trek to the studio. All I want to do is be alone. That’s what I’m good at. I’m no good with people, and obviously they don’t like being with me, so what’s the point.

I can tell myself that maybe Ludwig won’t fall for Feliciano, maybe they won’t start going out, but I know that’s not true. Everyone falls for Feliciano. And then he’ll leave me, and I’ll be alone again, until the bastard breaks his heart, and I have to pick up the pieces. Again.

And then there’s that stupid, damn Antonio: smiling and praising me during class, then embarrassing me with his friends. I wish he would just ignore me. That would hurt less than having him pretend to like me in front of his friends.

And then the worst part is, the day’s not even over. I have to burn through three critiques today – all of them against Feliciano – and thereby humiliate myself three times, for being the untalented older brother, related to a prodigy.

I’m used to seeing _Nonno_ , the rest of my family, acquaintances, and fucking everyone else compliment Feliciano, but I don’t want the first person who’s ever thought of me as a great (God that sounds ridiculous) artist to compare me with Feliciano. I don’t want to see that same ridiculous smile, and passionate, green eyes sparkle and shine at anyone else – especially not Feliciano. Not because I _love_ him or anything. I’m pretty sure I hate him. Ninety-five percent sure. Maybe eighty.

But the only stranger who’s ever thought anything of me is going to abandon me. And it’s going to happen… in T minus forty-five minutes.

Fuck.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Firenze_ \- Florence  
>  _fratello_ \- brother  
>  _non lo so_ \- I don't know  
>  _nonno_ \- grandfather
> 
> I'm sorry it sort of ends on a cliff hanger, and we didn't really get anywhere, but I promise to update this fic next! My US/UK fic is at four chapters so I'll go ahead and try to make them even. It's hard balancing them, but I'm trying!
> 
> For the next part we switch back to Toni's POV for plot reasons (I think. Maybe I'll split it in half…). I'm not happy about it either, because he's really hard to write for, but at the same time, Antonio gives me closure. I'm as insecure as Lovino about his feelings I guess.


	4. Jealousy, Edvard Munch. 1907. Oil on Canvas. (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Critiques happen, and there's good news and bad news. But pasta makes everything better, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emma - 18 (Belgium), Kiku - 19 (Japan), Emil - 19 (Iceland), Yao - 20 (China), Natalia - 20 (Belarus), Gupta - 18 (Egypt), Herakles - 27 (Greece)

(Antonio’s POV)

 

 

 

“You have a curious little friend Antoine.”

My eyes snapped to attention, and I stared blankly at Francis. Lovino’s expression as he left concerned me, and I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it yet. He seemed so upset. But Francis offered a slight smile, and I forced myself to grin in return.

“Yeah, he is interesting. And he’s a really good artist too! You should see some of his work,” I felt my voice grow stronger when I thought of Lovi drawing, but then I remembered how secretive he was and I chuckled. “Well, if he’d show it. I need to boost his confidence a bit more I think.”

“Ah, I’d say you’re doing that fairly well so far,” Francis winked at me, and I rolled my eyes to shrug off the insinuation. I felt my cheeks redden slightly when I thought of us possibly being together though, but thankfully Francis didn’t say anything.

“Why’d he run away so fast? I thought he was going to join our table, and get to know the awesome me!” Gilbert grinned wickedly, and continued eating his breakfast sandwich.

I rested my cheek in my palm and I sighed, “I don’t know. I can’t seem to figure him out yet.” My eyes wandered past Francis and Gilbert, and rested on Lovino’s twin brother. He was smiling brightly, and talking with passionate gestures of his hands; and I could hear his bangles clinking from my table. Ludwig still seemed vehemently opposed to showing his emotions, but I could tell from the slight smile (or not-as-much-frown maybe?) that he was having a good time. Ah, I wish –

_“I wish that Lovino and I could be like that.”_

My eyes snapped back to the table and found Francis smiling at me with knowing eyes.

“Isn’t that what you were thinking _mon cher_? That you want to whisk your little Italian artist away and have romantic endeavors.” He crossed his arms across the table elegantly and waited for my response.

“I mean, I don’t know about romantic endeavors! But…” I thought about Lovi’s mysterious golden eyes, and I grinned stupidly. “I would like to hang out with him more.”

I saw Francis exchange a glance with Gilbert from the corner of my eye, but I didn’t pay attention. Maybe today I can ask Lovino if he wants to hang out sometime. I mean, that’s not against the rules, right? If we –

_“If we have a strictly platonic relationship, then we can hang out! We can get churros, and pizza, and pasta –”_

“Stop it!” I yelled, trying to keep a straight face, though I that was inevitable with Francis and Gilbert around. And sure enough, they both countered with a level stare. I retreated back to my chair and asked, “What?”

“Look man, it’s obvious what you want!” Gilbert wiped the crumbs off of his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

“We’re just worried about you,” Francis amended, raising one hand to brush a few stray hairs back into place. “We just want to make sure you won’t do anything too stupid that’ll risk your teaching job.”

“Yeah, it took you long enough to find a stinkin’ job.” Gilbert continued with a huff.

“What makes you think I will?” I countered, trying to sound as offended as I could. Although, deep down I was already a little afraid that I might do something stupid.

Francis lowered his eyebrows to give me his “ _regard grave,_ ” and replied, “Because you have love sickness written all over your face. You lit up as soon as you saw the back of his head!”

“Because it’s cute!~” I whined, though I knew I wasn’t helping my case. After Francis gave me another look I gave up and crumpled on the table, hiding my face in my arms. “You’re right. I don’t know what to do. I like him too much.”

“Ah, _mon frère_ , you’re in a tough situation to be sure. _L’amour_ doesn’t strike at the most opportune moments.” Francis tried to comfort me by petting my hair.

“It sure doesn’t,” I muttered.

“Why don’t you stay friends with him for the semester, and maybe if he’s not your student in the next you can work something out, no?”

I stared longingly at Feli and Ludwig and sighed.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll do that.”

 

~

 

I took my time walking to the school, and enjoyed some people watching, because I didn’t really want to be early today. I was a bit concerned that Feli was still at Starbucks when I left, and I mentioned something to him, but he just giggled and said, “Vee~ Don’t worry Tony! I’ll be there for sure! I just have to show Luddy first!” I snuck a glance at Ludwig after Feli said that and he seemed as surprised as I was, but much more embarrassed. Perhaps he painted a portrait of Ludwig. 

But as my sandals started slapping against the tile floors, I knew there was no turning back. Today, I was going to be Lovi’s teacher and friend – nothing more. I can do that, that’ll be fine.

Unless Lovi starts crying; could that happen? I don’t think I can do nothing if Lovi cries. Okay, if Lovi cries than I can act more lovingly, and hug him, and pet his hair, and ki – Well, I can hug him at least!

I rested my hand on the door handle and sighed. Here goes nothing I guess. Slowly, I pressed down, and pushed the door open; trying extra hard to keep my gaze limited to the pathway to my desk. When I sat down, I let myself hear the familiar buzz of students talking, and I felt slightly more comfortable, but it made me sad to think that Lovi was most likely sitting in the very back by himself, still scribbling along. After I rested my bag down I let myself sneak a look at him.

Oddly enough, he wasn’t drawing, or erasing, or smudging charcoal with his fingers as I’ve seen him do a few times. It looked like he was…sleeping I think? His arms were folded over his closed sketchbook (like a cat guarding his food), and his head was resting in the middle. I don’t think he could hear anything either because I saw the white cord of his headphones dangling across his arms and into his messenger bag. I couldn’t help but smile slightly and think how cute Lovi was when he was napping: his cheeks are still red! But I glanced down at my watch and saw it was already 9:05, so I should probably at least have everyone start setting up their piece to critique it. Feliciano will probably show up eventually; I’d guess right before the first person starts talking.

With that settled, I stood up and made an announcement, “Okay class, before we have our fist critique, you guys can grab a easel and set your art piece up. Then we can go around and everyone can take turns talking to us about their piece, and we’ll all try to offer some constructive criticism.”

A few people groaned, but the rest quietly went to get their easels, and even Lovi (right before I was about to wake him up), slowly opened his eyes, and scooted himself out of the chair to get one. He didn’t seem happy about it though, and kept his head down and his bangs over his eyes all of the way there. But even so, I saw him setting up his easel next to his desk, and placing his closed sketchbook on it hesitantly, though he daren’t open it.

After everyone had set up their easel, and sat down in a chair next to it, I tentatively asked, “Does anyone want to volunteer to go first?”

Of course, as it is with all of my first Studio Art classes, my question was met with dead-stares, fidgeting, and nervous glances directed anywhere except at me: which is really annoying, because I’m so friendly! But I stayed silent, because I also knew that eventually, some brave person in the crowd would raise their hand and –

“I’ll go!” Emma, the bright-eyed blonde with an ever-present green ribbon in her hair, raised her hand with an eager smile.

“Of course, go on ahead.” I gestured for her to stand up.

“Okay, well…” Emma flipped her canvas over to showcase it. “I decided to do one of my 2D pieces first – which is obviously a painting – and I was inspired to try a post-impressionist style piece and focus on colors. So here, I tried to paint a –”

Suddenly (but also not surprisingly), Emma was interrupted by the abrupt swing of the door and the skipping footsteps of Feliciano: hurryingly slightly off-balance by the precarious hold of his portfolio, and a grande Starbucks cup.

“Vee~ _scusa, scusa_!” Feliciano yelled as he weaved through the desks and easels. Then as he passed Emma’s flustered face he awkwardly kissed both of her cheeks (he must not remember we’re in America) and said, “I’m so sorry Emma! I’m running really late today! Ah – but your painting is _bellissimo_! I love it! Have you shown everyone else yet? It’s so pretty, I love the colors!”

“Oh – thank you Feli!” Emma replied, as Feli had already retreated to the back of the classroom near Lovi.

I turned to their direction, but before I called out to Feli, Lovino and I made brief eye contact, and as I tried to decipher what his eyes were saying he flicked them to the floor and crossed his arms. I frowned slightly, then looked back to Feliciano and said, “Feli, you can set your piece up on an easel. We’re just going around giving constructive criticism and opinions on each others’ artwork.”

“ _Si_ Tony! Right away!” Feli offered me a thumbs up, and I caught Lovino rolling his eyes as he did so.

Although I should’ve corrected him for calling me by my first name, I couldn’t find it in my heart to say anything, so I just smiled and turned around.

“You can continue Emma.”

“Oh – okay!” Emma paused briefly, as she reoriented herself near her canvas. “So, um, this piece…I painted – in acrylic – a combination of animals, sort of geometrically-shaped as you can tell here and…here.” She pointed to her giraffes and elephants quickly. “And since I’ve been looking at a lot of Matisse, I tried to imitate his use of colors.” Emma stopped, and awkwardly looked around the classroom for raised hands. “Yes, Feli?”

“Well, I already said I liked the colors, but I wanted to say I also like how symmetrical everything is! It looks like a pretty tablecloth!”

I held my breath after Feli spoke, and waited in suspense for Emma’s reaction. I don’t know how “a pretty tablecloth” sounds to a vulnerable, young artist.

“Oh, thank you! Actually I want to design prints and stuff like that, so I’m so happy you said that!” Emma clapped her hands together excitedly, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Vee~ your welcome!” Feliciano waved his hand and made a happy jingle of his bangles.

Emma and Feli exchanged a few more happy words and glances, but soon enough the class fell into another pit of silence, and I waited patiently for the next brave student to speak up. We should get at least three critiques per person I think.

“I like the juxtaposition of complementary colors,” Kiku, one of the more reserved students, said quickly and dropped his gaze to the floor after he finished.

“Thank you! I thought that would make it a bit more compelling.” Emma pressed her dress and folded her arms behind her back.

Of course, once more the students and I were trapped in silence, and this time, since it had already been two minutes, it seemed as though I was going to have to intervene. But then I was startled into wide-eyed silence when I heard a distinct Italian accent (with slightly better English pronunciation) speak up from the back.

“I like how you compartmentalized everything…It’s sort of nice how you organized patterns and geometric shapes inside the shape and outline of the animals…and stuff.” Lovino finished with an embarrassed mumble and flushed cheeks, then cupped his face in his hands – no doubt trying to fend off his (super cute!) blush.

But Emma looked so pleased and happy, she replied with a charming giggle and said, “Thank you! Yeah, I like to keep things rather easy to see – and I like lines – so that was definitely part of it!” Lovino looked up at her hesitantly, and I caught an exchange of smiles and happy eyes between the two. But I’m not sure how I feel about that exactly.

“Okay then!” I clapped my hands together loudly, and caught everyone’s attention. “Who wants to go next?”

 

~

 

There are only fourteen students in the class, and whereas that number would go by pretty fast in a well-adjusted, upper-level class; these freshmen were going along rather slowly – still too timid to give out offhand opinions to their peers’ works I guess. Even so, after Emma, we made it through Kiku, Natalia, Emil, Yao, Erika, and a few others.

All the while, Lovino was either raking his nails through his hair, or gripping and regripping his wrists, and my heart ached that I couldn’t do anything to ease his nerves. It’s Gupta’s turn now, and Feli still hadn’t gone yet for whatever reason (although I’m 99% sure it’s because he’s on his phone), but after that it’s Lovi’s turn.

“Okay Gupta, are you ready to start?” I asked politely, and was met with a dead-eyed stare.

“Sure.” Gupta stepped aside from his table to showcase his piece. “So I started with my unconventional material piece, and made a model version of a casino I want to build. And it's made out of cigarettes and cigarette boxes.”

“Why do you have so many cigarettes?” Emma asked automatically.

Gupta shrugged his shoulders and said, “It’s what my roommate had lying around on his desk.”

“And you just took it?”

“I told him he should stop smoking.” Gupta replied evenly, and glanced over his project again.

“Well, I like it because I’m really lucky and I love playing cards so it would be super fun to go to your casino! You should build it here in New York!” Feli raised his hands gleefully, clinking his bangles again.

“No, it’s going in Las Vegas.”

“Well, I like it because of its message telling people not to smoke.” Emil said seriously.

“I wasn’t trying to say anything about that, I said it was the only thing I –”

“I’m really impressed you managed to get all of those things to stay balanced. That thing’s pretty freaking tall too.” Natalia said and resumed drinking her Monster.

“I do want to be an architect, so it would be a problem if I couldn’t build something as small as this.” Gupta replied, once again failing to accept a compliment graciously.

No one seemed to be offended though, which I thought was _bueno_ , and I jumped in, “Good job Gupta! I really like the creative use of your material, but next time, maybe ask your roommate’s permission first?”

“I told him he had to stop smoking, so I –”

“Vee~ Okay, my turn! My turn!” Feliciano jumped from his chair, knocking it backwards with a loud clatter, and skipped to the side of his easel. He bent down to pick up his portfolio, and tentatively pulled out a large, stiff paper, or maybe it was a thin canvas? Then he set it on the easel and faced forward with a grin. “So I did one of my 2D projects first, and I decided to do a watercolor painting of someone I know. I don’t know if I was inspired by anything in particular, I just wanted to paint him the way I saw him, and he’s so _bello_ , I ended up painting about twenty different portraits of him heehee!…But I think this one’s the best! Doesn’t he look so nice?”

“Oh, well, it’s very realistic, so I feel like if I saw this person in real life, I would recognize him straight away!” Bella smiled, and eyed the painting up and down again.

“Ah, I really, really, tried! He’s actually even handsomer in person!” Feli exclaimed, and I could’ve sworn I heard Lovi cough something in the back, but I couldn’t make it out.

“Is that really watercolor?” Yao asked curiously, and squinted his eyes to focus on the painting.

“It is!”

“That’s really impressive then. His skin looks so…real.”

“ _Grazie_!” Feli smiled and stared at the portrait dreamily.

“He’s making coffee, right?” Natalia asked as she crushed her can abruptly.

“ _Si_ , that’s right! He works at Starbucks. He’s their best employee!”

“I don’t know why you just winked at me, but is that why he looks so…angry?”

“He’s not angry! He’s concentrated! He tries to make really good coffee.” Feliciano waved his hands around dramatically and smiled lovingly.

Natalia pursed her lips, and sighed, “Well, it’s nice anyway. Good job.”

“ _Grazie! Lo so_.” Feliciano chuckled, and I heard Lovino mumble “ _bastardo arrogante_ ” not-so-quietly.

“Do you have a photo of him?” Gupta asked, as he blatantly tapped at his phone.

“ _Si!_ ” Feliciano dug in his jeans’ back pocket and pulled out his own phone, then jumped in front of Gupta and shoved it under his nose. “He’s my lock screen! See how _bello_ he is!"

Gupta’s eyes hovered over Feli’s phone for a moment, then flicked up to Feli’s face. “Yeah, that’s the same guy.”

“Good job, Feliciano! I’m really impressed! It looks like you put a lot of work into your piece.” I smiled, and started clapping so that everyone would follow.

As Feli took his seat, and the class continued to mutter and talk amongst themselves, I glanced at Lovino who was holding his head in his hands. I leaned back in my chair a bit and touched his hair.

“Lovi,” I said quietly, and he slowly raised his head to meet my eyes. “It’s your turn.” I smiled reassuringly, but his eyes shined sadly and rolled to the floor. Then he gently shoved my hand away, and got up. “It’s Lovino’s turn everyone, let’s give him a round of applause!” I shouted enthusiastically, hoping I would ease some of Lovino’s nervousness. Instead, he just glared at me and crossed his arms near his easel.

The hardness in his eyes faded when the class turned to face him; and tentatively, he flipped open the sketchbook with a trembling hand.

“I – um – I did one of my 2D projects first….And it’s in pencil and charcoal…and yeah…” Lovino trailed off and began wringing his wrists again.

Everyone was silent for a minute, just staring blankly at Lovino and his piece, and now it was my turn to fidget anxiously. Why won’t anyone say anything? Come on, Lovino’s right there and he’s so cute, but he looks like he’s about to cry and I just want to –

“Wow, it’s so good Lovi! I didn’t know you were drawing me!” Feliciano smiled and leaned forward in his chair to take a closer look.

Lovino shifted his weight and muttered, “Yeah, well you were concentrating on your own drawing dumbass. Can’t you see?”

“There’s just so much…detail.” Gupta said thoughtfully, and he also crept forward in his chair.

Lovino just stared at him – as if he was trying to figure out whether that was a compliment or not.

“It’s amazing! It’s just like that Austrian guy!” Emma exclaimed with a sparkle in her green eyes.

“You mean Albrecht Durer,” I insisted helpfully, and exchanged a wink and smile with Lovino; but he narrowed his eyes and frowned.

“Yeah, him!” Emma agreed. “But it really is amazing Lovino! That looks just like Feliciano! And there’s just so…much to it!”

Lovi flushed red and mumbled, “…Thanks.”

“You’re really good at drawing,” Kiku said simply and resumed resting his hand under his chin.

“ _Si, non è lui_? I always tell him how good he is!” Feli slapped Kiku’s back with a happy laugh.

“Whatever,” Lovi mumbled and began closing his sketchbook, again with shaking fingers.

As he shuffled to his chair though, I could tell he was secretly pleased, and his eyebrows weren’t as crossed as they usually were.

“Well, thank you Lovino for sharing! And thanks to everyone else too! You all had wonderful works of art.” I announced, as everyone was already beginning to pack their things. “Next class we’ll start working on our second project, and in three weeks, we’ll have our next critique. I hope you have a good rest of the day!”

A few shuffled out the door already, but some lingered in the room, still chatting with each other about their art. I was going to talk to Lovi for a bit, but I saw Emma and Natalia lingering near his chair, so I immediately remaneuvered my path to my desk. Once I was sitting down and randomly stacking papers to seem busy, I snuck a glance to the back of the classroom again, and I saw something I hadn’t seen before – Lovino smiling and pleasantly chatting…with other people? Emma was giggling and flipping her blonde hair flirtatiously, and Natalia was looking through Lovino’s sketchbook – the one he never, ever let me touches – and Lovino was courteously talking back to them.  

At least he seemed happy…right? But I compliment his things all of the time, and he’s never smiled at me like that! Or held a normal conversation with me!

“Tony, I’m going to be right back, okay!” Feli snapped me to attention, and I caught him running out the door before I could call after him.

I sighed, but it’s not as if I have much room to disapprove. I was always skipping classes with Francis and Gilbert. It really is amazing I graduated actually. And it’s really amazing I got this job too. Ah, Gilbert's right! I am lucky to work here.

I looked back at Lovino, and it seemed as though Emma and Natalia was were saying their goodbyes and getting ready to leave.

 _Well,_ I thought. _Maybe the fact that Lovino is so charming and has a lot of girlfriends is a good thing. I know he won’t be lonely or anything, so I can put off my uncontrollable desire to hug him until next semester when hopefully (por Dios) Lovi isn’t in my class so we aren’t teacher and student anymore._

“By Tony! See you later!” I turned my head to the side and caught Emma and Natalia waving at me as they exited the classroom.

Wait – does anyone call me Professor Carriedo?

“ _Bastardo_ ,” I heard Lovino call, and I immediately turn my head in his direction. “You’ve been staring at me for ten minutes. What is it?” Lovi sat down in his usual spot and brought one of his knees to his chest. Then he rested his cheek on his knee and stared at me sideways with a funny frown.

I chuckled at the sight of him, and began making my way to his corner of the classroom. “I was just zoning out.”

“Figures,” Lovi mumbled, and I dragged Feli’s chair out to sit down. 

He lifted his face slightly, and repositioned his chin on top of his knee, so that he was glaring at me fully. It looked like he wanted me to say something, or maybe he was waiting for me to say something? But I didn’t know what it was, so I just hummed in blissful ignorance as Lovi’s cheeks darkened red.

Finally, it seemed as though he grew impatient, and he began, “So…”

“So what?” I asked dumbly.

“Damn it, what did you think?” Lovino tightened his grip on his jeans.

“About…?”

Lovi tossed his head back dramatically. “I mean – what did you think of Feli?”

“Oh, I thought he was good. He’s obviously very talented.” I said automatically, but I doubt I said anything new.

Lovino gave me a hard glare and replied, “I know. But who’s better?”

_Oh._

“Lovi, that’s not an easy question to answer.” I started slowly, and tried to measure his temper with my eyes. “It’s just that…art is so complicated and diverse that talent can’t be compared so easily. Especially with two totally different artists like you and Feli! You each have your own niche, and that’s a good thing. Art is a lot about being different and finding your own way to express yourself.”

Lovino maintained eye contact with me the entire time, and his face never cracked, but he also didn’t give me any reason to believe he heard me.

Then he dropped his knee to the floor abruptly, stood up and crossed his arms.

“You know, that’s the first time you ever sounded like you know what you’re talking about.” Then he turned on his heel and stalked towards the door.

When I realized what he said to me, I called after him, “Wait – where are you going?”

“To the fucking bathroom, calm down.” He yelled back, and he added, “I’ll see you in a few minutes anyway…bastard.”

 

~

 

In Painting, Lovi displayed an acrylic painting of somewhere in Italy again: which I could only assume was part of his home. Even in color, there was still so much detail. It looked like Lovi was trying to cram every possible thing he could see into the picture, because he didn’t want to forget a thing. 

He was another success, which was good! Elizaveta, who’s not really an art student, but just takes the class for its therapeutic effect, was very taken with the painting. She and Lovi ended up talking for the rest of the class…which was fine.

 

~

 

In Life Study, Lovi displayed his take on what everyone else in the class also had to draw. A bouquet of flowers.

Of course, since Lovi’s specialty lies with pencil and charcoal, his was particularly good, and everyone seemed very impressed.

Lovi almost smiled too. He was a fraction a way from grinning when he caught me staring at him excitedly. Then he threw his eraser at me and muttered, “creepy bastard.”

~

 

Three-dimensional design was a bit…rougher. It’s an upper level class, so it has higher expectations, and I never expect the first project for any student to be amazing.

But…Feli’s was.

The class is sort of like an unconventional sculpture class, which for some artists – especially those who are more accustomed to two-dimensional art – it’s a bit tricky. Lovino’s project wasn’t bad by any means, but it was unsteady, and not as meticulously crafted as his drawings are.

Feli chose to make his “sitting object” first, and he made an exceptional modern looking, upcycled chair made of books, magazines, and duct tape.

Lovino’s “table object” of kitchen items, just wasn’t up to par. And I think he knew it, because as soon as class was over, he was the first to walk out the door.

 

~

 

He has sculpture now, with Herakles, or Professor Karpusi. And I’m sitting in my classroom, basically biting my nails (even though Francis is always telling me not to), and worrying about Lovino.

That’s just not his element! And I can almost hear what he’s yelling inside of his head. I wish I could just talk to him. Or check on him.

I flick my eyes to the clock. It’s 7:30. Class is almost over. Maybe I can just pop by the classroom to see how he’s doing? That’s okay, right? Yeah, yeah, yeah…yeah!

I jumped off of my seat with newfound conviction, and started half-running, half-walking to the other side of the art building, to classroom forty-four.

Once I was on the forties hall, my heart skipped a beat. Okay, here’s forty, forty-one, forty-two, forty-three, and…forty-four!

I press down on the handle and pull the door open quickly, and not as subtly as I had wanted. Everyone inside, which fortunately was not many (maybe ten), turned to stare at me and Herakles gave me a particularly sleepy gaze.

“Tony, what brings you here?” Herakles asked with a slow blink to his hazel eyes.

“Oh,” I began awkwardly, trying to find Lovi somewhere in the circle, “I...forgot to tell Lovino – my Studio Art student – something about his project. Is he…um, here?” I asked, even though it was already pretty obvious he was no where in the classroom.

“No, he had to leave because he was sick.”

“Really?” I asked, and tried to recall if Lovi seemed at all sick today. Herakles didn’t seem like he was going to offer up any more information though, so I forced a smile and a carefree laugh and began walking out the door. “Okay, well thanks anyway _amigo!_ ”

“Ah, wait Tony!” I heard the other distinct Italian accent ring (this one definitely more Italian). Feliciano bounced up to me, and I thought he didn’t seem as happy as he usually was. “I think Lovi went back to the apartment,” Feli whispered, concern tightening his features. “Do you mind just checking on him?”

Feli handed me a slip of paper with an address written on it, and I took it without thinking. As I stared at it, I tried to wrap my head around the situation – sometimes it takes more than a moment – and I smiled reassuringly at him.

“Of course, Feli! I’ll go right now!”

Feliciano’s eyes brightened and he gave me a light hug. “Grazie Tony! Text me if you need anything!”

He quickly skipped back to his seat, and I turned over the piece of paper to find that – oh, there’s Feli’s number.

And Lovi’s too! Yay!

Then I gave another wave in Feli’s direction and ran out the door.

The fact that someone like Feli was worried made my stomach tighten slightly, and once I was on the streets, I weaved through the New York City crowds like a pro to get to Lovino as fast as I possibly could.

 

~

 

As soon as I was standing outside of Lovi’s apartment building I knew I underestimated his family. He had a doorman! I didn’t know those still existed! I stared at him like he was some sort of celebrity, but he still held the door open for me and I floated into the lobby.

Marble floors, glass chandeliers, gold…everything. Wow, I want to live here. It’s like Lovi’s a Disney prince or something!

I must have looked sort of lost though, because one of the people working at the desk – a young lady – called me over, asking, “Sir, are you looking for something?”

I hopped to the desk rushed to answer, “Um, I’m here to see Lovino Vargas?”

“Okay, is he expecting you,” She asked, as she picked up the phone and started pressing buttons.

“Um, I don’t think so. But I was told to check on him by his brother.”

“That’s funny, it’s usually the other way around,” She muttered, but I didn’t have time to reply, before she picked up another conversation on the phone. “Hello, Mr. Vargas, there’s someone here to see you. Should I send him up?”

I stared at her blankly, and wished I could hear what he was saying.

“What’s your name, sir?” The lady asked, as she covered the phone with her hand.

“Um, Antonio Carriedo – but tell him Feli sent me!” I amended quickly, since I thought maybe Lovi would try to hang up if he knew if was me.

The lady continued talking on the phone, and even giggled a little, which made me really curious, but then hung up and said, “Okay, go that way. The elevator’s on your left, and Mr. Vargas’s apartment is on the top floor.”

Oh, he has a _penthouse_ apartment?

“Okay,” I mumbled, and blindly followed her directions.

I entered the elevator, which was shiny and covered in mirrors and gilded railings, and noticed that it had a man in there! This place has an elevator guy!

“Which floor, sir?”

“Oh, uh, the top?” I said, and stared at all of the buttons on the wall.

He pressed the number twenty-four wordlessly, and I felt the little box jolt up into the air. I stifled my yelp, and tightened my grip on the railing just in case.

At least this thing has mirrors and not windows. I don’t think I could take it if it had windows.

Then I heard a bing, and the doors slid open. I didn’t even say adios to the man, I was so desperate to run out of there.

But once in the hallway I was faced with a large, intimidating door. I thought about knocking, and I held my knuckles to the door hesitantly, but then I saw the buzzer and the little speaker on top of it, and I thought maybe Lovi would prefer me to use that so I tentatively pressed the button.

After a beat, I heard Lovi’s voice echo through the speaker, “Hello _bastardo_ , just give me a minute. I’m changing.”

Huh, his voice sounded so…strange. Maybe that’s because of the speaker?

I didn’t contemplate it much, and just sing-songed an “okay” over the intercom before I resumed standing in silence.

Eventually, I heard the clinking of locks and chains, and it sounded like Lovi was unlocking his door. Then he swung it open and leaned against the side.

“What are you doing here?”

I stared at his face curiously. It didn’t look as though he was crying or throwing up or anything. He didn’t really look sick. But there was something strange. Lovi just looked so (and sounded so)…calm.

“Oh, I – Feli told me to come check on you! So here I am!” I smiled easily, and tried to rest his nerves at ease.

Lovi sighed and closed his eyes. “That bastard…” He muttered and looked at me. “Well, as you can see, I’m fine. Maybe I’m just allergic to that place. So, you can go now.” Lovi began shutting the door, but I stuck my foot in the doorway to block it and pushed through.

As I walked in, I heard Lovi yell, “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” My heart lifted slightly at the sound of his old, passionate self, but it still sounded slightly less Lovino.

“I’m just checking on you,” I grinned and turned to get a full view of him. “Why’d you change into sweatpants for me?”

Lovi frowned and crossed his arms across his baggy, grey Fifa hoodie (corresponding exactly with the stripes of his black Fifa sweatpants).

“I didn’t change into these for you, I was just tired and – oh whatever. You’re not leaving here until Feli gets back, so just take a seat on the couch and shut up.” Lovi shuffled over what I presumed was “his” seat, a brown leather loveseat and curled up.

I followed him happily, and settled for laying down on the large couch next to him.

“Hey! No shoes on the couch! Didn’t your madre - or whatever she's called - ever tell you that?”

“Oh!” I quickly grabbed my sandals and tossed them to the floor. Then I turned my head to the side of the pillow and said, “ _Lo siento,_ Lovi.”

Lovino didn’t look at me, and just turned his attention back to the TV and began scrolling through his hundreds of channels.

He didn’t seem to be in any hurry to find a channel though, so after he spent already five solid minutes going down and down, and I decided to break the silence.

“So…how was the rest of your day?”

Lovi sighed and muttered, “Shitty.”

“Are you talking about 3D design?”

“So you thought I sucked too, huh?”

“No! That’s not what I meant! But I could tell you were pretty upset when you left and I –”

“Save it. I already know.” Lovi picked a channel at random, but decided he didn’t like it and clicked Guide again.

“Know what?”

“That Feli’s better at me in sculpture.”

Now it was my turn to sigh, and I lifted myself up to rest my elbow on the armrest. “Lovi, I’m trying to explain this to you the best I can, but it seems like you still don’t get it. You don’t have to be great at every type of art. Most people aren’t, and you certainly don’t have to be. If anything, it might be a bad thing, because it forces you to divide your attention in too many ways, and you don’t end up becoming the best at one thing and finding your niche.”

“Feli’s good at everything though.” Lovi mumbled, and I could only imagine he was pouting, though I couldn’t see his face properly.

“He has a lot of talent, that’s true. But just because he has more aptitude for sculpture, that doesn’t mean he’s a better artist than you.”

Lovi turned the TV off and rolled around so that he was facing the cushion of the couch. “You don’t understand,” I heard him say softly, but couldn’t make out any other words.

I watched him helplessly, torn between hugging him and talking to him, but on impulse, I decided to do both. So softly, I got up from the couch and stepped over to Lovi, then I hovered over his figure, contemplating which was the best way to hug him, but was interrupted by Lovi’s voice.

“Don’t you dare hug me bastard.”

“Aww, Lovi! Come on! I just want to comfort you!” I whined and played with his hair absentmindedly. It’s so soft and curly!

“If you want to comfort me than make me some damn food! And – hey!” Lovi whipped around to face me with a flushed face. “Don’t touch my fucking hair!”

I stared at him childishly, and wondered what the fuss was about, but decided to comply and walk over to the kitchen.

“So, what do you want to eat? Paella?” I opened the fridge and gawked at the hundreds and hundreds of ingredients in there. It’s like another world!

“Fuck no.” He called out from the couch, and I heard him get to his feet. “Make me some spaghetti…with tomato sauce.” He wandered over to the black marble counter and sat down on one of the stools.

“Okay! Do you want me to make fresh tomato sauce?” I asked, as I checked the drawers for fruit and vegetables.

“Is there any other way?”

“Not for _mi querido tomate_ , there isn’t!” I proclaimed, and lifted a bag of tomatoes from the drawer triumphantly into the air.

Lovino didn’t seem very amused and just drummed his fingers on the counter.

I placed some of the ingredient on the counter anyway, and started filtering through the cupboards in search of pasta and pots.

“The pasta is in the top cupboard to the right, and the pots are to the left of the stove in that big ass drawer.”

“Ah, _gracias_!”

“ _Prego._ ”

I gathered all of the remaining items, and lined them up across the counter neatly.

“Okay then. Am I cooking for two or three tonight?”

“Just make enough for five, I'm hungry.” Lovino said and took out his phone from his pocket.

“ _Por supuesto señor_!”

“ _Idiota_ …” Lovi muttered, and I saw him begin tapping away at his phone.

I started cutting the tomatoes and boiling the water, and hummed as I was doing so. I snuck a few glances at Lovi now and then, but he was steadfastly glued to his phone, and never looked in my direction.

After I had finished the tomato sauce, and was letting it boil, he said, “Don’t overcook it bastard.”

“Don’t worry Lovi, I’m a great cook! If we lived in the same house, I would cook every meal for you! Ah, you know, maybe you should hire me as your butler or something!”

“What are you talking about? An _idiota_ like you can’t run a house.”

“Ah, but I could though. I’m an excellent boss!” I said with a wink, which fortunately Lovi caught.

“I doubt that,” Lovi rolled his eyes and put down his phone. “Are you going to put the spaghetti in or what?”

“The sauce hasn’t cooked for long enough yet. If I put the spaghetti in now, it’ll be ready too soon!”

“It’s already been cooking for twenty minutes bastard. Put in the damn spaghetti!”

“No, it’s only been cooking for like…seven or something.”

“Forget it,” Lovino muttered, and jumped down from the stool. Then he circled around the counter and stepped to my side. “Let me taste it, I’ll tell you how long it’s been cooking.”

“Aww, come on Lovi! Why don’t you trust my cooking?”

“Because you’re a happy-go-lucky Spaniard that has no clue what he’s doing half the time! Now give me the damn spoon!” Lovi reached for the spoon, and I pulled it out of his reach.

“No, I’m going to feed you!” I chuckled, and Lovino’s face flushed red again.

“You are not! Give me the damn spoon!”

“Nope, you’re not getting it! You have to let me feed you!” I struggled to keep the wooden spoon out of his reach, but Lovino was starting to strike his hands quicker and I had a hard time keeping up. “Hey, stop it! If you keep doing that, I might –”

“ _Dannazione_!” Lovino yelled, and I stopped contorting to turn around and face him. Lovi was gripping his sleeve and staring at the blob of red tomato sauce dribbling down the grey cloth. “Look what you did!”

“ _Lo siento_ Lovi! I didn’t mean to! But I didn’t expect you to try and tickle me!”

“I wasn’t fucking tickling you, I was trying to get the spoon!” He shouted, but the passion died down as he grew more concerned with his jacket. “Damn it, I think it’s stained.”

“Just give it to me, if I sponge it now maybe it won’t.”

Lovi wordlessly took off his jacket, still managing to frown at me with harsh, bronze eyes, and then handed his jacket to me in a lump.

“Okay, let’s just take this over to the sink here and get some cold water running…” I ran my hand under the faucet and waited until the temperature was close to freezing, then picked up a sponge and soaked it.

I felt Lovino shuffle to my side, and I knew he was watching what I was doing critically.

I pressed the sponge to the sleeve and said, “After I’ve soaked it enough, I’ll put some lemon juice on it, which will hopefully bleach a lot of the stain, and then flush it with more water.”

“This happens to you a lot, doesn’t it?” I heard Lovino ask humorlessly.

I chuckled a bit and faced him, “Yeah, it kind of does…” My voice trailed off as something caught my eye.

“What’s that?” I asked without thinking.

“What’s what? Be specific.” Lovino replied, and could hear the playful frustration in his voice.

But somehow, I couldn’t find myself laughing carelessly, and I only kept staring and said, “What’s that on your arm?”

Immediately, Lovino jerked his arm away from the sink and tucked it behind his back.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Lovino began backing away from the counter and side-stepping out of the kitchen.

I didn’t follow him right away, and just kept looking at him – now I was looking at his eyes instead of his arm – as he tried to sneak away. He looked scared...and angry.

“I saw something on your arm. It looked like –”

“I-I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, but it’s freezing as balls in here, so I’m going to change…and when I get back, my jacket better be fucking spotless.” Lovino gave me one last level stare with flashing gold eyes, then hustled out of the kitchen and down the hall.

I followed him a bit too late, and only caught him slamming what was most likely his bedroom door, making a show of locking it several times.

I didn’t move from my spot, and just kept staring at Lovi's door silently.

On his forearm down to his wrist, it looked like…

I mean I could have sworn I saw…

 

Scars?

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the long wait. I was sort of stumped - even though I always knew which direction this story would go - and didn't know how to approach writing this chapter. Then there was the stress of school, so I just decided to put it off until summer. 
> 
> In any case, I hope this chapter was decent. I'm going to resume writing this story in the direction I had planned and just hope for the best :) I really enjoyed all of your wonderful comments and suggestions, and I apologize if I didn't respond to them. Comments are always welcome and enlightening, and I appreciate them all. 
> 
> I'm going to alternate this story with my text based story (the Romantic Developments of Antonio and Lovino - totally should have given that a shorter title) and put Your World on hiatus until they're both completed. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! The next update will be in 1-2 weeks! I also promise that in the next chapter we'll cover more time, because I know it's getting ridiculous.


	5. El Sueño de la Razón Produce Monstrous, Francisco de Goya, c. 1799. Etching, aquatint, drypoint and burin.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Antonio tries to figure out what he saw, and his friends try to help him out. Much to Lovino's displeasure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter. But I couldn't figure out any other way to get on with the story, so that's the reason.

(Antonio’s POV)

 

 

 

"Lovi! It’s ready!”

I cupped my cheek in my palm and stared at the table. It’s actually been ready for a while, but I gave Lovi more time to…change as I set up the table. I even ground some parmesan I found in the fridge.

“Lovi, it’s going to get cold if you don’t come out and eat it now!” I called out again, as I fumbled with my phone.

Quietly, I heard the unlatching of chains and locks followed by the slow creak of the door, and I smiled slightly that Lovi was coming back out. His footsteps were very delicate, and I wouldn’t have known he entered the kitchen if I wasn’t waiting foolishly for his arrival.

When his golden-brown eyes met mine, they seemed hard and cautious, but I tried to smile reassuringly and waved my hand to the table.

“Go ahead and take a seat! I’ve been waiting for you _mi querido tomate_!” I announced playfully, but Lovino didn’t reply by rolling his eyes or making a sarcastic comment. He just looked at me again, with narrow, perplexed eyes, and pressed his lips together.

I glanced briefly at his shirt. It seemed as though he changed into his red, long-sleeve from earlier today, as well as his dark-wash jeans.

When I flicked my eyes back to Lovi’s I saw he hadn’t begun eating yet, and was still staring at me warily.

Ah, he must not like me looking at his shirt.

I immediately picked up my fork and began twirling my pasta. “Oh, I grounded up some parmesan if you want. I put it near your plate.”

Lovi hesitantly broke eye contact with me and stared at the parmesan. He picked it up tentatively, and started dusting his tomato sauce with white flakes of cheese. Finally, and very obviously unwillingly, Lovino also began twirling his pasta; though it was clear to me he was still very on edge.

I don’t even know exactly why, which is sort of the problem. I’m assuming whatever I saw, I wasn’t supposed to see. But I still didn’t even understand what I saw, I think. I mean, it looked like scars, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they were, right?

Of course, what else could they be? What else is white and pinkish and runs across skin slightly raised? But I’ve seen plenty of scars before, I mean I have a lot from just hanging out with Francis and Gilbert all the time, and I know Gilbert has even more than I do. Lovino’s just looked…different.

I snuck a glance at Lovi again, and saw that he was still staring at me carefully.

I guess, whatever I was saw, Lovi didn’t want me to see. And it didn’t seem like he was going to talk about it, or let me talk about it, so I guess I should just…drop it? Maybe if I don’t talk about it today, I can bring it up another time.

“So Lovi…” I said slowly, and watched sadly as Lovino’s entire face froze in fear. Then I winked at him and turned around. “I fixed your jacket!” I reached behind my chair and grabbed the grey hoodie, and whipped around to show him. “Look! See, it’s spotless! I can totally be your butler!”

Lovi breathed quickly then retorted with tired sass, “Just because you know how to handle your damn tomatoes, that doesn’t mean you can run a house. _Idiota._ ”

I grinned childishly, and thought swiftly for some story to distract him further, “You know that actually reminds me of when Gilbert, Francis and I had an apartment together. That was really fun! Francis and I alternated cooking the meals – since Gilbert couldn’t be trusted – and I was in charge of cleaning the place, because Francis and Gilbert were too busy –”

“Idiot, they weren’t too busy. You just got suckered into it because you’re too – too – Spanish or something!” Lovi waved his fork passionately and stabbed his spaghetti again.

I smiled a bit more genuinely after Lovi talked back, and continued, “Haha, maybe so Lovi! But I didn’t mind. I could play my music, and sing as I cleaned the apartment. Francis and Gilbert were always so busy with work anyway, I didn’t want to bother them.”

Lovi finished a sip of his sparkling water and pursed his lips. “That doesn’t mean they can boss you around though. Stand up for yourself, damn it!”

“Well, it’s too late now!” I sighed dramatically. “We’ve gone our separate ways. Gil and Francis live with two other guys: both of which, apparently insist on cleaning the apartment. And I live by myself now, so as Francis would say, _‘c’est la vie.’_ ”

“Don’t you dare quote French in my apartment,” Lovi warned and tugged his sleeve down again.

I laughed then wondered, “Hey, do you think Feliciano is coming back?”

Lovi scoffed and said, “Who the fuck knows? Honestly, he probably took off for that damn Starbucks and –”

“Vee~ Lovi, _sono tornado!_ _Hai visto_ Toni?” Feliciano skipped through the door, portfolio in hand and froze when he saw us – or maybe when he saw the pasta – and yelled, “Wow, _sei ancora qui!_ And you made pasta! Vee~ _grazie, grazie_ Toni!” Feli bounced to my side and gave me a quick hug.

“Oh, no problem Feli,” I chuckled awkwardly and saw Lovi rubbing his temple.

“Do you mind if I have some?” Feliciano asked as he pulled out another chair and sat down.

“No, of course not! I made enough for five so…”

“And it’s our food. Don’t forget that bastard,” Lovino corrected, and I saw he had already cleared his first plate.

“Ay, yeah, that’s true,” I laughed again, and rubbed the back of my neck.

“Ah, it smells so good Toni! You must be a great cook!” Feliciano grabbed the Parmesan near Lovino and started shaking it over his plate.

“It smells better than it tastes,” Lovino added, and got up from the counter to make himself another plate of spaghetti.

Feli stuffed his face and continued to mumble, “No, no! It’s actually pretty good!”

Lovino hit the back of Feli’s head playfully, and wandered back to his seat with a full plate.

“So Feli, did Ludwig like his portrait?” I asked politely.

“ _Si,_ I think he did! He didn’t really say much about it, but I think he was surprised. He did say I was a good painter though!” Feli exclaimed and stared up dreamily.

As he was talking, I caught Lovi sticking his tongue out and mocking what Feli was saying, and at the end he added, “stupid potato bastard.”

I decided to ignore that and say, “Did you know that one of my best friends is Ludwig’s older brother? He was at the coffee shop today.”

“Vee~ yeah, he introduced himself to us after you left! He’s so funny, but not much like Ludwig. What does he do anyway?”

“Oh, he’s in a band. But he also has a few other jobs since his band doesn’t actually make any money.” That makes me wonder if Gilbert has any right to criticize my place in the workforce, since he changes jobs so often.

“What jobs does he have?”

“Um, right now I think he’s working as a freelance photographer at the New York Times? His roommate is a journalist there so somehow he got Gilbert a job. And then I think he still works at Starbucks, since I haven’t heard any different.”

Feli’s eyes widened and he said, “No, he doesn’t work there anymore. I was visiting Luddy one day last week, and I overheard Gilbert get into an argument with a customer – I think his name was Ivan – and caused a big scene, so the manager fired him.”

“Oh,” was all I replied. I wonder why Gilbert hasn’t said anything? I guess I don’t see them as often as I used to now that I live on my own. Maybe I can catch up with them this weekend.

As I grew lost in thought I glanced across the table at Lovi, and I saw him pushing his spaghetti around absentmindedly and looking aggressively at the table.

Maybe I should go. It seems like Lovi’s okay, and Feli’s here now anyway, so I don’t want to make Lovi angry.

After I cleared my plate, I stood up and placed it in the sink. Then I turned around and sighed dramatically, “Oh, no! Is that the time? I think I’d better get going now.”

“Noo! Toni, don’t go! Why don’t you stay for some tiramisu? I just made it!” Feliciano exclaimed, and started moving towards the refrigerator.

“Haha, it’s fine! I don’t want to overstay my welcome,” My eyes flicked to Lovino, who, curiously enough, wasn’t glaring or preparing for a sassy retort, but instead was just solemnly staring to the side, one hand still loosely gripping his fork.

“Lovi, tell Toni he has to stay for dessert!”

Lovino exhaled quietly and closed his eyes, then he said, “Let the bastard do what he wants.”

I smiled automatically and laughed, “Haha, don’t worry Lovi! I’ll see you tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that and –”

“Damn it, I get it already! We’re stuck with each other!” Lovi threw down his fork and slid his chair out from under the table. As he was about to stomp away to his bedroom, he briefly paused and muttered, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“ _Si,_ Lovi! See you soon!” I yelled after him, and chuckled when he slammed the door. Then something occurred to me, “Oh, he didn’t call me bastard, did he?”

Feliciano giggled and said, “It seems like he slipped up this time!"

I laughed lightly again, then I began walking slowly towards the door. “I’m sorry I have to leave Feli, it’s just that I haven’t been home yet, and it’s already getting late.”

“No, no! It’s fine! I’ll make sure you come back over soon!” Feliciano smiled, and escorted me to the door in bouncy steps. Then when he opened the door to let me out, he said quietly, “Thank you for coming today Toni. I get sort of worried about Lovi when he storms out like that.”

“Oh, it was no problem. He just seemed sort of tired, I think.” I smiled reassuringly, though in the back of my mind something told me that wasn’t what it was.

But Feli appeared content with my answer because he pulled me in for a quick hug and whispered, “Just watch over him, okay? He never tells me when he’s in trouble.”

“Of course,” I mumbled offhand.

Feli let me go and smiled with shining eyes. “ _Grazie_ Toni! _Ci vidiamo dopo,_ okay?” he waved his hand and shut the door before I could say anything.

I thought about knocking on the door, and asking Feli why he was worried about Lovi when he’s in trouble, but since it was getting late, and it felt like a touchy subject, I decided not to push it and wander back home.

Still though, I wonder what it is about the Vargas brothers? Lovino is always yelling and pushing Feliciano away, but at the same time, it’s obvious to Feliciano and me that he’d do anything to protect him. And then Feliciano is always trying to latch onto Lovino and make him happy, but Lovino always refuses it. I just don’t get it.

And then there’s that whole rivalry between them, which only really seems to exist in Lovino’s head. I wish he would understand that you don’t have to be the best in every area of art; it’s really just important to be best at one thing that no one else can do. Argh, and then he still won’t believe me when I give him compliments! Or anyone else for that matter! I saw him smile and accept the other student’s compliments graciously, but I could see it in his eyes that he didn’t believe it, and that compliments just slipped over his shoulder.

It’s really good that Lovino has so much passion and talent for art, but that’s not all you need. He needs to be a little bit like…well, Alfred. He needs that confidence and slight arrogance that will give him momentum to keep going.

 _Sigh…_ it’s too bad he doesn’t like Alfred much.

 

~

 

The rest of the week went by pretty normally.

And by pretty normally, I mean totally weird, because things never go by normally.

Lovino was particularly quiet around me for most of the week, and I have a few theories as to why. He usually comes early to class and is the last one to leave, but this week, he came exactly on time, and he left exactly on time: as if he didn’t want to spend another second in the classroom.

And although that in of itself isn’t really weird, since Francis, Gilbert, and I (on our good days) would do about the same. But Lovino loves being in the art studio; and I think it’s when he feels the most comfortable, so I’m sort of worried that it’s because of me that he no longer wants to hang out there.

So when I figured that out, I tried sitting at his table again, and tried to make conversation. Well, that would work for a bit, but Lovi seemed very cautious in the conversation, and I would catch him looking at me more than usual. I feel like he was trying to figure out what I was thinking, but I’m not that complicated, so I don’t know why.

On Friday, Lovino finally started to loosen up, and he was able to curse and backtalk me like usual. I was really happy he started to trust me again, so I thought maybe this was an opening for me to ask him some things.

And that was my mistake.

I was trying to be really casual and carefree, so he wouldn’t get wound up again, and so when he was doodling on the cover of his sketchbook, I asked gently, “So Lovi, did you do any sports in Italy?”

“ _Calcio,_ ” Lovino muttered as he dropped his chin to his knee.

“ _Calcio?_ ”

“You know, football.”

“American football or everywhere else football?”

Lovino lifted his face from the sketchbook and yelled, “Damn it, I did fucking soccer, okay? _Dio,_ I thought you were Spanish. You’ve been here too long.”

I laughed a bit too loudly, and said, “Maybe so.” Lovi just rolled his eyes at me, so I continued, “Were you…good at it?”

“Better than you I bet.”

“Haha, I’m not sure about that,” I replied, and I caught Lovi looking up at me disbelievingly. “Did you have any accidents when you played?”

“Of course not. I’m not fucking Feliciano, I never fall,” He muttered and began doodling a soccer ball.

“Oh,” I managed, and started thinking quickly for another question. “Did you ever get hurt working at the farm?”

“What? No, it was a fucking vineyard! And it’s not as if Feli and I did any of the work. Do I look like a farmer to you?”

“Haha, not really,” I chuckled, as I tried to imagine Lovino picking grapes all day. Then my mind scrambled to find another question, “So…were you ever bullied as a child?”

Lovi slammed is pencil to the table and yelled, “What the fuck kind of question is that? Do I look like the kind of kid that would be bullied?”

“N-no, not really. Especially right now.”

“Damn right.” He huffed, and picked up his pencil again. “I was always trying to keep Feliciano safe anyway.”

I hummed in understanding, and tried desperately to think of another question that would apply. I just want to know what happened to his arm!

“So…did you ever have a skiing accident?”

“What? Why the fuck are you so interested in my medical history all of a su –” Lovino paused to stare at me, and all I could do was look back blankly. Then he slid his sketchbook from the table and picked up his messenger bag.

“Hey! Where are you going?” I asked and tried to keep up with Lovino’s fast pace out of the studio.

“I know what you’re doing bastard, and it’s not going to work.” Lovino muttered rapidly, as he tried to get a grip of his things.

“But Lovi, I just –”

Lovino turned around at the door and faced me. I felt petrified under the glare of his molten brown eyes, and I didn’t understand all of the emotion dancing behind them. Before he stormed out the door he lowered his brows and kept a firm frown, then warned seriously, “Just leave me alone.”

And with that, I was left alone in my sterile, white studio, listening sadly to the echoing footsteps of Lovino as he increasingly sped out of the building.

Why don’t I understand him?

 

~

_Ring_

_Ring_

_Ring_

**Beep**

_“Hola! This is Antonio! I’m sorry I can’t come to the phone right now. If you’d jus –”_

My hand felt around my bed for my phone and I somehow answered it.“Um, who is this?” I asked sloppily, trying to remember where I was.

“Toni! This is Francis! Where are you right now?”

“Oh, um,” I looked around my room, and found my clock. “I’m uh – wait, is it really two in the afternoon?!”

“Le sigh…oui, it is. Have you been sleeping all morning?”

“Haha, I guess I have.”

“Oh Toni, how are you surviving without us? In any case, I was calling to ask if you were still planning on coming to our apartment today.”

“ _Si,_ I am! I promise!” I scrambled to my feet and held my bedpost to steady myself. “Um, just let me get dressed and I’ll be right over!”

“Okay, but don’t bother putting much effort, because I’ll be redressing you when you’re over. _À bientôt!_ ”

**Beep**

I stared at the phone briefly, trying to understand what Francis meant, then tossed it on the bed. Okay, I just need to find clothes.

I opened my closet and stared at my options, then I realized: I have paint on every piece of clothing I own. But…I don’t even paint.

_Que?_

 

~

 

“Ah, Toni! It’s good to see ya man! How’ve you been?” Gilbert leaned against the side of the door and grinned. 

I smiled slightly and walked into the apartment. “Pretty good! Has anything interesting happened this week for you?”  

“Kesesese,” Gilbert chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, actually Mattie and I had an interesting time finding a story. Did I ever tell you about how I got fired from Starbucks?”

“No, I only heard about it from Feli earlier this week. He said it had something to do with a guy named Ivan?” I followed Gilbert into the kitchen and found Francis putting groceries away in the fridge.

“Ah, _bonjour_ Antonie! I’m so happy you decided to join us,” Francis purred and continued dropping fruit in the drawer.

“Hi Francis! Sorry I overslept. My sleeping pattern’s been all over the place this wee –”

“ _Ja,_ there was this guy named Ivan at Starbucks, and I was supposed to take his order. But man, he was so rude and he cut in front of these three other little guys, and it just pissed me off. So, I kind of lost it after he started rattling off his order – which was totally not on the menu – and then the manager got all prissy and made the mistake of firing the awesome me! Can you believe that?” Gilbert dropped into a chair and pulled one of his beers from the six-pack.

“Did Ludwig try to do anything?” I asked as I pulled out a chair across from him and sat down. Then something occurred to me and I started looking across the counter and into the living room. “Also, where’s Arthur and Matthew right now?”

Francis closed the fridge and began pouring himself a glass of wine, saying, “Oh, Arthur’s somewhere trying to find poetic inspiration I think. And Matthew…where is Matthew?”

“I think he went to go visit Alfred? He said Alfred had something to tell him I think. Apparently he was pretty excited. But anyway – back to what I was saying. Ludwig was busy talking to some that little Italian guy, so he didn’t really notice anything. But that guy Ivan, well Mattie and I ended up getting assigned to do a story on him. I guess he’s a famous art dealer or something? Man, it was terrible though.” Gilbert’s eyes flashed red and he started reaching for another can.

“Why is that?” I asked, and silently thanked Francis for pouring me a glass of wine.

“Because he was so freaking rude! Or at least to me. He was really grabby with Matthew.” Gilbert sneered and narrowed his eyes at the memory.

“Ah, sounds like you’ve developed a fondness for our little suitemate,” Francis winked, and took another small sip of his wine.

Gilbert didn’t say anything, which was odd for him, but then muttered, “Even I’m better than that KGB freak. You should’ve seen him. He was so freaky. And I swear if Mattie wasn’t there, he would’ve knifed me or something.”

“You’re just exaggerating,” Francis waved his hand dismissively.

“Yeah, whatever. You can ask Matthew too. He’d agree with me,” Gilbert crushed his second can and huffed.

“Do you have to go back?”

“No way man. Matthew got his facts, and I took the photos, so I think we’re good.”

“If you have to go back, you should take your _petit frère_ with you. He’ll keep you safe,” Francis winked and poured another glass of wine.

“ _Verdammt,_ I’m just as awesome as he is! No, I’m more awesome! Haven’t I already said that?”

“Many times,” Francis laughed lightly and tucked his hair behind his ears.

After that, I started zoning out and I wondered what Lovi was doing now. I wonder if he’s watching TV or drawing or eating or sleeping or–

“Earth to Toni! What are you doing staring off into space when I’m here?” Gilbert chuckled and I noticed that he was moving onto his fifth can now.

“Oh,” I laughed, and resumed drinking my first glass of wine. “ _Lo siento,_ I’ve just been sort of out of it lately.”

“Hmm,” Francis leaned closer to me, and I could smell wine and cheese on his breath. “Does this have anything to do with the feisty, little Italian?”

“Why do you immediately jump to that?” I asked and ran my finger around the rim of the glass.

“Because you’re too happy-go-lucky to get weighed down by your own problems. So it’s gotta be someone else’s.” Gilbert smiled, and took out his phone.

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just chuckled half-heartedly and took another sip of wine. Gilbert seemed pretty satisfied with that, and he continued to ramble on about is newspaper adventures with Matthew, and I would deliver some one word commentary here and there. But all the while, I knew Francis was watching me, and I knew he knew something was wrong with me. Ay, Francis always knows.

So when Gilbert ran off to his room to make drunk phone calls, I already knew Francis was going to corner me and ask what’s wrong. And sure enough, the moment we could both hear Gilbert cursing German, Francis stood up and wandered over to Gilbert’s seat so he was looking at me from across the table.

For a moment he just stared silently at me, then he raised his eyebrow and asked, “Come now mon ami, what happened with the Italian?”

I sighed, and dragged my hand across my face. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I mean, something happened. But I don’t know what it means, and he seems to think I…do? Argh, Francis, this thing is so confusing I don’t even know!”

“Okay, Toni,” Francis tried to placate me with his smooth voice. “Why don’t you just tell me what happened and maybe I can help you.”

I huffed and tried to gather my story in my head, then began, “Well, on Monday, after we met up at Starbucks, I went to the school and met Lovi there and we were doing critiques today and everything was fine. So all of the critiques he had with me were fine, until we got to 3D design. I mean it was rough, but it was still fine.” I paused and saw Francis’s face urged me to continue. “And then he had sculpture – but not with me it was with Herakles – and I got sort of worried about him so I decided to check in on him. Well when I got there, Feli said he went home and he told me to go check on him which I did –”

“ _Mon cher_ , I love you but are we getting anywhere with this?”

“ _Si, te promeso_. So I went to check on Lovi at his apartment – which was really fancy by the way and was a penthouse and everything – and when he came out he seemed….well a bit off. But he let me in and we hung out and everything was fine. So I offered to make dinner, and I made pasta with tomato sauce, but then I tried to feed Lovi and he kept moving and I spilled sauce on his jacket, and he took it off and I…saw something.”

Francis looked at me expectantly and motioned with his hands for me to explain.

“I saw some…it looked like scars on his arm.” I stopped to see Francis’s face and I saw a shift in his dark blue eyes that might have been recognition. But he seemed like he was waiting for me, so I finished, “And I tried to ask him what they were, but he just ran away and sort of shut me down. I tried in class too, and asked him if he got into any sports accidents or anything, but he figured what I was trying to do and just told me to leave him alone.” I collapsed onto the table and sighed. “Francis, I just don’t know what to do. I want to help him, but he pushes me away. And what’s worse is that I don’t even know what’s wrong! Ay, what to do?”

“Ah, well did you say these were scars?” Francis asked delicately and picked at the label of the wine bottle.

“Yeah, that’s what the looked like.”

“So you’re saying that they seemed relatively…old, right?”

“Um, yeah I would say so.” I closed my eyes to try and bring up the image again.

“Were there a lot of them?”

“ _Si,_ I think so…and they were sort of close together too.”

Francis was quiet for a long time, so I raised my head to look at him. My heart stopped a bit when I saw him, because I rarely ever see Francis anything less than content and pleasurable; and here he was with his eyebrows knit together in worry (even after he yelled at Gilbert and I for doing it because it would give us wrinkles), and narrowing his eyes at the wine bottle.

“…Francis?” I asked tentatively, and watched in amazement how Francis was able to pull back all of his negativity in the blink of an eye.

“Mon cher. I would leave it be. If they’re scars than they’re his past, and when he’s ready to tell you, he will.” Francis smiled carefully, and I wondered what he was hiding behind that smile.

“Do you have any idea about where they’re from?”

Francis’s smile changed slightly, and I could tell – because I had seen this look on him many time before – that he was pitying my innocence.

“I may have seen something similar before, yes. But I say, if he doesn’t want you to know for now, just leave it be.” He saw me frown slightly, and added. “But don’t leave him alone entirely. Just try to be there for him as you have been, and help him if he ever seems down.”

I sighed in resignation, because I knew that I wouldn’t be able to get Francis to say anymore, even though I knew he knew more about Lovi’s situation than he wanted to say. At least it seemed as though Francis thought he as okay. And he even gave me permission to continue talking to him, which is good! I guess.

At some point, Gilbert stumbled into the kitchen, grabbed me by the shoulders and announced loudly, “Okay, who’s up for a bar crawl tonight?”

“Ah, you know Gilbert, for once that may be what we all need.” Francis winked at me and started placing our wine glasses in the sink.

Then as we were shuffling out of the door, Gilbert ran ahead to chase a taxi down and Francis pulled me to the side and said, “And if you see any new scars, just let me know and I’ll tell you more.”

 

~

 

(Lovino's POV)

 

 

“Lovi? Are you still up?” I heard Feliciano knock on my door.

I sighed, and rolled around in my bed to stare at the clock. It’s past one in the morning, why is Feli awake?

“Yeah, yeah. Come in,” I moaned and stayed curled in my bed.

Feliciano quietly walked in, and I squinted in pain when the light from the hallway flooded into my room.

“Dio, why are all the lights on? Shouldn’t you be in bed?” I asked, and slowly sat up to look at Feli.

“Oh, I’ve been up texting. I can’t really sleep and I figured you’d be awake,” Feliciano smiled and sat down in the chair near my drawing desk.

“Why would you assume I was awake? I could’ve been asleep. Man, if you woke me up, you’d be in trouble,” I mumbled and pushed my hair away from my face.

“Heehee, but Lovi you never fall asleep before three,” Feli laughed and spinned around in the chair. Then he paused and said, “I thought you’d be drawing though. Are you tired?”

“Of course I’m fucking tired! It’s after one!” I exclaimed and stared in horror when I saw Feliciano flipping through my sketchbooks. “Hey, what are you doing? Stay out of that!"

I scrambled across the bed to try and snatch it away from Feliciano, but it was too late. As soon as I reached my bedpost, Feli turned around in the chair with the biggest, goddamn smile I had ever seen on his stupid ass face.

“Lovi! These are so cute! I didn’t know you were drawing Toni!” Feli giggled, and I felt my face heat up in embarrassment. I couldn’t find the words I wanted to yell at him, so Feli kept talking. “Aww, queste sono cosi belle! They look just like him! And you captured his smile so well. Oh – I love how you only colored his eyes in this one! They’re such a lovely green, aren’t they? You should show these to Toni in –”

I grabbed the sketchbook from Feli’s hands, hurriedly closed it, and pressed it safe against my chest.

“Don’t you dare mention these to that damn bastard. He doesn’t have the right to know,” I glared at Feli, and hoped that my face wouldn’t get any redder.

Feliciano’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he asked, “But why? Don’t you want him to be happy? Luddy loved it when I showed him the portraits I did of him!”

“Damn it that’s not it!” I yelled, and stopped when I saw Feli’s eyes widen. I opened the sketchbook to one of Antonio’s stupid smiling faces and sighed. “It’s just…too embarrassing. And complicated. If – if I showed him these it would be like…I don’t know. Showing him my diary or some crap! Art’s too personal damn it!”

I shut the sketchbook again and fell back on the bed and closed my eyes.

“But Lovi…it’s just Toni. He’s so nice! And he cares about you a lot,” I heard Feli say from the desk.

I thought of how Antonio encouraged my art; and how he would always insist on visiting me in the back of the classroom even though I’d just listen to music and pretend he wasn’t there. Sometimes I would talk to him, and we would have weird but not totally boring conversations, and once the damn bastard even made me laugh. I was actually starting to kind of…like him.

Then I screwed up.

I breathed heavily again, and muttered quietly, “I just don’t want him to know any more about me than he already does.”

I didn’t expect Feliciano to reply to that, but after a minute of me tracing the lines of the blanket design with my eyes, I heard him say, “I don’t think that’s going to stop him.”

I wonder if you’re right, I thought.

After a while, Feliciano seemed to give up on me talking so he started humming some stupid tune and flipping through other sketchbooks. I was too tired to care at this point, and anyway, he already saw the worst one, so it can’t get any worse.

But when Feli stopped humming, all of a sudden a loud _DING DONG_ echoed through the apartment and I jumped a foot off of my bed and onto the floor.

“What the fuck was that?” I yelled and pushed myself up on my hands.

“Vee~ that sounded like the doorbell,” Feliciano sing-songed and skipped out of my room.

“Well duh – I know that dipshit! But who would ring our doorbell at this time – hey! Where the hell are you going?” I asked and tried to regain my balance.

It didn’t seem like Feli was listening to me, or was going to, so I reluctantly followed him out of room and slowly walked down the hallway.

“Feli,” I said and paused near the corner to the kitchen and living room. “You better not have answered the door and let whatever freak idiot in.” I peeked my head around the corner just in time to see Feliciano pull the door open, and immediately I pressed my body back into the wall so I wouldn’t be seen.

“Feli!” I heard a familiar voice exclaim, and my eyes widened at the recognition.

Don’t tell me that idiot wandered all the way over here past one in the morning.

“It’s the _petit Italien! Comment adorable!_ ” A happy French accent yelled and I knocked my head back against the wall when I recognized that voice too.

And he brought his friend! God fucking damn –

“Kesesesese! This place is totally awesome man! You had freakin’ knights guarding this place! We had to fight ‘em all just to get in here!” A fucking annoying voice added, and I covered my face in frustration.

Why… _the fuck_ ….would Antonio come here with his two idiots after midnight completely and absolutely drunk out of their minds?!

“Oh wow! It’s Toni and all of his friends! How are you guys doing?” Feli asked politely, and from the sound of his voice, it didn’t seem like he was the slightest bit fazed by all of this. Figures.

“It’s Feli! He’s so cute! Aww he’s so fun to hug!”

I peaked around the corner to see what the hell was going on and saw Antonio – dressed in a strange and suspiciously nice button down and pants – fucking bear-hugging Feliciano in the middle of the living room. Meanwhile the albino was trampling all over my gorgeous, damn leather couches and the French one was trying to pull Antonio away from Feliciano.

“No, no Antonio! This isn’t the one! You’re looking for the dark and feisty one!” Francis shouted in Antonio’s ear, and it seemed like something got through that dense skull of his because he loosened his grip of Feliciano and stumbled back a few steps into Francis’s arms. “Don’t worry _mon cher_! We’ve come this far! We’ll find your princess. I’m sure she’s somewhere in this tower!”

Francis hugged Antonio and patted his back reassuringly.

“Do you mean Lovi? Because he’s awake if you want to see him!” Feliciano said and I almost fell to the ground.

“Lovi! _Si, si_! I want to see _mi querido_ Lovi!” Antonio yelled, and I peaked again (against all better judgment) to find him standing on his own two feet again with Francis swaying over to Feli’s side in wobbily footsteps.

“ _Mon ami_ , quickly. You must tell Antonio where he is. We don’t have much time left!”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Antonio’s very drunk right now, and I’m not sure how much longer he can stay standing. You need to bring Lovino to him right – oh there he is! Toni look!” Francis stared right at me and I gaped in shock.

As soon as Antonio looked at me with his happy, curious green eyes I didn’t wait a second more for him to smile: I booked it back to my room and slammed the door.

My fingers were shaking at this point, but I somehow managed to lock the door, and then slide down to the floor, still leaning against it.

“Lovi! Lovino! It’s me Toni! Or Antonio if you like! Or you can call me your _amor_! Anything’s fine _mi querido_!”

My breath hitched when I heard Antonio yelling and knocking against the door. Wh-what the hell am I supposed to do? He’s drunk out of his mind, and it seems like he’s more of an idiot than usual.

“Loviiii~ what’s wrong? Are you still mad at me?” Antonio whined and scratched against my door.

Mad at him? Is that what he thought? Damn it, he really is an idiot.

“Come on Lovi! I just want a hug! I crawled through twelve bars to get here!”

Twelve? What the fuck was he thinking? Oh, it must have been his stupid friends’ idea. I bet Antonio is a lightweight too. _Dio_ , what if he gets sick? Could that happen? Should I let him in?

“Lovi…I’m getting sick just standing here. What if I throw up on your carpet?”

Fuck no.

I immediately got up from the floor and opened the door, fully prepared to steer the bastard’s drunk, Spanish ass straight to the bathroom, but instead I saw Antonio smiling at me with twinkling, dark green eyes – darker than I’d ever seen them.

“Gotcha,” Antonio said and pushed me into my room.

“H-hey! What the fuck are you doing you bastard? I’m not scared of you, you know! I-I can fight you off if I have to!” I shouted against Antonio’s chest, but he just pushed me further back, until I fell onto my bed.

I wasn’t alone for too long before Antonio crawled on top of me, so that his face was directly above mine.

Well, this is…awkward.

“Antonio, y-you better not try anything or I swear I’m going to…” My voice trailed off when Antonio started giggling wildly and his curly hair fell near to my forehead.

“Lovi, Lovi, Lovi…you’re so cute!” Antonio ran his hand over my cheek, then poked it. “And you’re as red as a tomato! Are you embarrassed right now?”

“W-well how the fuck would you feel if you had an idiot crawling all over you?” I shouted back and frowned angrily.

It didn’t seem to faze Antonio though because he just continued to smile and play with my face until he said, “Lovi, why are you mad at me?”

I stared at him awkwardly and tried to understand why his eyes shifted from giddy to sad so quickly.

Then I turned my face to the side and mumbled, “I’m not mad at you…bastard.”

“But then why are you avoiding me?” Antonio asked and he stopped touching me.

“I’m just…I don’t know. I’m scared,” I admitted quietly and realized that tears were stinging my eyes.

“Scared of me?” Antonio asked, and I could hear the stupid surprise in his voice.

“Sort of…but it’s not just you. I-I’m…scared of everyone,” I mumbled, and prayed to God that Antonio would be too hungover to remember any of this tomorrow.

I tried to bite back the tears and the annoying crying – it’s been so long since I’ve actually cried – but for some reason admitting this to the bastard’s caring face made everything too hard for me not to cry.

“Aw, Lovi,” Antonio muttered and laid down on the bed to pull me into his arms. “ _Lo siento_. I shouldn’t have made you say that. I didn’t want you to cry.”

I stayed still in his arms for a few moments as the tears fell relentlessly down my cheeks.

“It’s just hard for me. I care about you so much Lovi and all I want to do is help you and love you…”

My eyes widened at the word and I stopped breathing for a moment. _Love?_

“But you just keep pushing me away,” Antonio finished, but didn’t seem to notice he said anything out of the ordinary.

Maybe I misheard? Or – well, the bastard is drunk. He probably mixed up his words. Yeah.

“I’m not,” I started to argue, but sighed midway through the lie. “I guess I am. But it’s all I know how to do.”

“Aww, Lovi! Don’t say that! I can help you! You can learn to open up to me! I’m really easy to talk to!” Antonio grinned and caressed my hair softly.

“Yeah,” I looked up at him hesitantly then rolled my eyes. “I doubt it.”

“Lovi,” Antonio drawled and pressed his forehead to mine dramatically. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t trust me.”

“I don’t trust you,” I said without blinking, and almost laughed when Antonio gaped in shock and pulled back.

“But why? I’m so friendly!”

“I barely know you.”

“Sure you do! We talk all the time in at school. And you’ve met my two best friends!”

“They’re idiots.”

“So,” Antonio laughed and leaned in closer. “Come on, open up to me!”

I stared at him nervously and said, “Aren’t you tired or something? You’re supposed to be drunk as shit.”

Antonio giggled and said, “I’m Spanish. I get drunk all the time.”

“Right,” I mumbled disbelievingly. There’s no way he’s going to last another ten minutes. His eyes are growing heavier every second.

“If you don’t tell me something,” Antonio began and he lowered his face to mine. “I’ll kiss you.”

Antonio winked at me and I gritted my teeth in annoyance.

“What the fuck kind of thing to say is that? You must be drunk as hell!”

Antonio snickered and pressed a finger to my lips.

“Try me,” He whispered and I pressed my head impossibly deeper into the pillow.

“Fine,” I said angrily and searched my mind for something that would make the bastard shut up.

I glanced back at his pink, drunk face and dark eyes and wondered if showing him my sketchbook would be okay. If he’s as drunk as he looks he shouldn’t even be able to keep his eyes steady on the page, and by tomorrow, hopefully he’ll have forgotten what he saw.

“Uh, look through the sketchbook over there,” I said and gestured the sketchbook I knocked off the side of my bed.

Antonio sat back on the bed and reached for the sketchbook. As he was figuring out how to open the thing I took the opportunity to sit up and place a pillow on my lap. Eventually his clumsy hands figured out how to open the thing, and he began flipping through it. I watched his slow, green eyes squint and widen at the pages, and I clawed at the pillow in anticipation. What the fuck is going on in that stupid brain?!

“Lovi,” Antonio said quietly and I held my breath for what he was going to say next. He lifted his head up from the sketchbook and looked at me completely bewildered. “Do you like me?”

“I – I…W-what the fuck does that mean?” I asked nervously and felt fresh tears prick the corner of my eyes.

Damn it, it’s too early in the morning for all of these fucking emotions.

“Do you like me?” Antonio asked again and I shook my head side to side in confusion.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re asking bastard. They’re just drawings!” I yelled back and shuffled a little further closer to the backboard of the bed.

“Not with you,” Antonio said and he shut the sketchbook softly.

Then he crawled nearer to me slowly and cautiously – I must have looked pretty fucking terrified. And calmly he met my eyes, then pulled me into a gentle embrace that I probably could’ve fought off if I wanted to, but damn it I was too tired to resist another hug.

“Oh, Lovi. I thought you hated me,” Antonio mumbled near my ear.

“D-damn it, why would you think that?” I asked weakly and rested my cheek against his chest. Somehow my hands found their way over Antonio’s arms, and I gripped them tightly when more hot tears fell down my cheeks. “Of course I don’t’ hate you damn bastard. You’re too stupid to hate.”

Antonio laughed and held the back of my head. “Aww, Lovi. You’re so cute.”

I frowned slightly, but didn’t reply. I guess I don’t need to be completely honest with this bastard for him to understand. Maybe he’s a bit smarter than he lets on after all.

“Lovi,” Antonio mumbled, and leaned against my neck.

“Yeah?”

“Do you mind if I sleep here? I’m getting…really tired all of a sudden,” Antonio yawned and breathed deeply against my skin.

“What? No, no you don’t! This isn’t going to work. If you want to sleep, you’re going to do it on the couch with your two stupid friends!” I yelled, but Antonio didn’t budge against my neck, and for some reason, my hands hadn’t tried to push him away either.

“Come on Lovi, just this once?” Antonio whined and wrapped his arms around my waist.

“H-hey! Stop that!” I exclaimed and tried to keep his arms from bringing me closer.

Antonio didn’t listen to me, and for the second time, Antonio pushed me back on the bed, and this time we were both laying on our sides, and Antonio was keeping me close against his chest as his breathing became slower and deeper.

“Fucking – you better not be falling asleep right now. There’s no way I’m sharing a bed with you!” I said, but didn’t raise my voice as high as I wanted to.

Antonio tucked my head underneath his chin, and even though I couldn’t see it, I knew his smug Spanish grin was all over his face.

“You bastard. I bet this was your fucking plan all along,” I mumbled, and felt Antonio shift slightly to hold me tighter.

He didn’t say anything, and I wondered if he was already asleep. I guess he must be. There’s no way the bastard could stay this quiet if he was awake.

I sighed quietly and closed my eyes. Wouldn’t it be fucking wonderful if all of this was some sort of weird nightmare? Then I wouldn’t have to deal with kicking out three hungover idiots tomorrow morning.

But somehow I knew that Antonio was actually here. In my bed. Holding me against his chest. And I knew that I would have to deal with this awkward situation when he woke up.

Maybe I could sneak out of here really early and let Feli deal with this.

“Lovi?” I heard Antonio ask very softly.

It was so soft, I wondered if he was sleep talking, and I didn’t say anything.

“Lovi, I know you’re awake,” Antonio said as quietly as possible.

I refused to say anything, and just tried to keep breathing calmly.

“Can I just ask you one more thing?”

I bit my lip, and prayed to _Dio_ he wasn’t going to ask what I thought he was.

“What happened to your arm?” Antonio asked, and I winced at the slight desperation in his voice.

Why does he care so much? It has nothing to do with him. Why can’t he just let it go? Everyone else does. It doesn’t matter anyway.

I sighed deeply and said, “Just go to sleep you idiot.”

Antonio didn’t say anything more, and I didn’t close my eyes until I knew for sure he was out, and eventually I fell into a dreamless sleep.

 

~

 

“Aw, look at them! Aren’t they precious?”

“ _Si,_ they look so cute! I’ve never seen Lovi look so cuddly before!”

“Kesesese, Antonio’s treating him like his stuffed animal!”

“Oh, look at that! I think our darling _Italien_ is waking up!”

I blinked hard at the strange noises and tried to bury my head in my pillow. Except the pillow was warm, and it didn’t feel like a pillow.

So lazily I opened my eyes, and after a few moments I realized I was staring at Antonio’s shirt, and a few moments after that I realized I was still being held by Antonio, and about a minute after that I remembered everything that happened last night.

“Lovi? Lovi, are you okay? Your face is completely red!” Feliciano exclaimed, and I suddenly figured out that the three annoying voices were coming from inside my room.

“I don’t think our little artist here is accustomed to waking up with another man in his bed. Oh, how innocent!” Francis purred and Gilbert laughed along with him.

I wanted to turn around and yell in their stupid ass faces, but the fact that Antonio was all over me, breathing and sleeping his brains out kept me in check, and I felt unable to do anything much. So tentatively I grabbed Antonio’s arms and tried to pry myself free.

“Kesese, look Antonio’s not letting go! Good luck getting yourself out of this one! Toni can be stupidly strong when he wants to be!”

“Oh, Lovi! Don’t pull too hard! You don’t want to hurt him!"

“ _Oui,_ you must be gentle with him. Treat your lover as if he was a delicate rose in your arms and –”

“Oh fucking hell – Will you guys please shut up?” I yelled loudly – much more loudly than I meant to – and felt Antonio stir in my arms.

“ _Qué?_ Wait – what’s going on here?” Antonio weakened his hold and tried to find my face.

When we made eye contact something snapped in me and I just couldn’t handle it.

“Get the fuck away!” I shouted and pushed Antonio off the side of the bed.

I breathed rapidly and scrambled off of the bed.

“Well that wasn’t very romantic,” Francis smiled at me and I noticed the albino was laughing his head off…again.

“What are these idiots doing in here?” I turned to Feliciano and waved my fist at him.

“Oh, don’t you remember? They came by late last night and wanted to sleep over!”

“I remember what happened! I want to know why they’re awake and here in my room!” I kept yelling at Feliciano and ignored the groans coming from Antonio’s direction.

“Vee~ well they woke up around ten and wanted food. So I cooked them a breakfast and then we talked for a bit, but then we were bored and so we came here to see what you guys were up to!” Feliciano smiled and I noticed both the Frenchman and the albino were laughing their heads off now.

Fucking imbeciles.

“ _Ay,_ what happened? Lovi, why did you push me off of the bed?” Antonio asked, but I refused to look over in his direction.

“Because you shouldn’t have been there in the first place,” I crossed my arms and glared at Feliciano.

“Why the fuck did you decide to let those three idiots in last night anyway? Do you have any idea what I went through?”

“Aw, but they were so drunk and happy! It was funny! And all they wanted to do was hang out for a bit,” Feliciano raised his hands enthusiastically but I just narrowed my eyes at him.

“Didn’t look like you minded that much when you were trying to make out with Toni’s shirt!” Gilbert flashed his red eyes at me and laughed maniacally again.

“Fuck off! I was trying to block you guys out!” I yelled, but nothing seemed to faze these morons and they just kept smiling and giggling at my face.

“Wait a second – how did I get here?” Antonio asked, and finally everyone turned in his direction.

“Of course he doesn’t remember,” I sighed and walked out of the room.

“Hey, where are you going?” Feli called after me, but I just kept shuffling down the hall in my sweatpants and long-sleeved t-shirt – my kind of make-shift pajamas I guess – and ignored him.

I wandered over to the kitchen and opened the fridge. I don’t know what I want to eat. Do I even want to eat anything?

I glanced over at the kitchen clock. The fuck? It’s already noon? How the hell did I sleep for that long? Even if I fall asleep at three I never sleep past seven!

Damn it, but I was so comfortable. And for some reason sleeping in Antonio’s arms made me feel so safe – THE FUCK IT DID.

I closed the fridge and pressed my forehead against it.

Why did last night have to happen?

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah.
> 
> So if some people find Antonio unrealistically naive, I can understand that. I thought about having him understand completely as soon as he saw what he saw. It definitely would've moved this story along faster. But...in my mind I don't think Antonio would understand. I think he's almost too nice and too happy to automatically believe in that, you know?
> 
> In any case, I hope this chapter wasn't too bad. I'll try to make them better. 
> 
> Till next time :D


	6. The Love Letter, Johannes Vermeer, 1669-70. Oil on Canvas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who cares about being a teacher anyway?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so proud of myself, I feel like I’m actually making progress with this story. We will get to some closure at some point guys! Things are looking good :D
> 
> On a side note: I don’t know how many of you have read my Spamano text story, but I basically used the same format I used for that for their texts. I’m just so used to it, I didn’t feel like thinking of a whole new thing.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

(Antonio’s POV)

 

 

 

“Ah, _amigos_ …can you remind me what happened? I can’t seem to remember much haha,” I laughed and tentatively got up from the ground.

 “Man, you don’t remember anything? It was such a great night,” Gilbert chuckled and mussed his silver hair.

I tried to search my memories again, but everything seemed so fuzzy and shaky and so incredibly faraway. The last thing I remember was maybe the…sixth bar we went to? After that, it’s all sort of a blur.

“Well _mon cher_ , after a few bars you finally started to loosen up and you kept tell Gilbert and I, ‘I have to go see Lovi, I have to go see Lovi.’ Gilbert and I were, not surprisingly, very enthusiastic about your idea, so we kept jumping bars that were on the way to his place,” Francis paused to look at me curiously. “I’m very surprised you could remember the address in the state you were in last night. I find that a true testimonial to your _amour._ ”

I blushed slightly and sat down on the bed. I guess I kind of remember suggesting that. I certainly remember thinking it the whole time; I just didn’t think I would say it.

“Well anyway, after the twelfth bar, I believe, we walked into this wonderful building. I handled the lady at the desk, and before you know it you were in Lovino’s arms and Gilbert and I were fast asleep in the living room.”

“Oh,” I said and reddened a bit more when I recalled more of what happened. “Oh, no. _Ay_ , I was so stupid. Lovi probably hates me.” I buried my face in my hands and sighed.

“No, no Toni! I wouldn’t say that! He’s just embarrassed! Lovino’s already so shy as it is. He’s probably just a little scared,” Feliciano exclaimed and I peaked through my fingers to look at him.

Scared. That sounds familiar. Didn’t Lovi say something like that last night?

_I-I’m…scared of everyone._

Oh, _si._ That’s what Lovi said. Why would he say something like that?

“Come on _mon cher_ , why don’t we join your little Italian in the kitchen?” Francis gestured towards me and I nodded my head in agreement.

As I stood up I caught a glance of myself in Lovi’s mirror and I couldn’t help but gasp.

“ _Dios mío_! Is that what I look like?” I inspected my hair and it was standing up all over the place. Fortunately my eyes looked pretty normal, but everything else – my clothes – was just crazy. “ _Ay,_ haha, I look a bit messy, don’t I?”

“Well, no more than usual,” Francis said casually and walked out the door.

“Yeah, you’re about the same to me,” Gilbert added and followed Francis.

I looked back at the mirror and paused.

“Feli, do I usually look like this?”

“Vee~ _Si,_ I would say you do! But that’s okay. I think it’s cute!” He giggled and glanced past me at something else. Then his eyes glittered and he said, “And I don’t think Lovi minds either.”

I looked at him in confusion and he motioned behind me with his hand, so I turned around and tried to find whatever it was he was gesturing to.

Oh, the sketchbook!

I hurriedly picked it up and opened it.

After flipping through a few pages I exhaled slightly and breathed, “So that actually happened then?”

“ _Cosa_? You already saw this?” Feli asked, and I looked up at his face.

“Yeah, well Lovi actually showed me last night,” I muttered, and I tried to recall anything else he said.

“Wow, I’m surprised he did. He told me he would never show you,” Feli smiled with twinkling, brown eyes.

I laughed half-heartedly and replied, “Haha, I’m sure he only showed me since I was drunk. He probably regrets it.”

Feli didn’t reply right away, and just filled the silence with a thoughtful hum.

“So, this is Lovi’s room, huh?” I said absentmindedly and looked around.

Somehow, this space is so fascinating to me. Now I can imagine where Lovi draws and listens to music. I would say it’s a cute little bedroom, but “cute” or “little” don’t seem to be the right words haha. It’s actually a rather grand room, with an impressive stereo system, a plasma screen TV, a beautiful wooden drawing desk and rolling chair, and a comfy king-sized bed.

“Wow, it’s like a little palace in here, huh?” I laughed and started walking around the room.

“ _Si_ , well our grandpa likes to spoil us. Lovino’s room is actually pretty modest compared to mine,” Feliciano admitted sheepishly, and I tried to imagine a bedroom even more spectacular than this.

I opened one door, and peaked inside. When I stepped inside the space, immediately all of the lights turned on and I realized I just walked into Lovino’s closet. And it was _grande_!

“All of these are Lovino’s clothes?” I asked and heard Feliciano’s light footsteps follow me inside.

“ _Si_ , they are!” He said and kept quiet as I looked through the different hanging shirts and jackets.

“They’re all so pretty,” I mumbled and stopped when I saw the jacket I had spilled tomato sauce on.

I held the sleeve between my fingers and replayed the events of that day. I feel like I’m missing something. The whole day went by so fast. The art critiques, Feliciano’s worries, and then seeing Lovino a little bit stranger… _Ay_ , I wish I were smarter. It seemed like Francis understood right away. Why can’t I?

“Hey Toni, I think I’m going to make lunch for Lovi. Do you want some?” Feli asked and I dropped the jacket at once.

“Oh, _si, si_! That sounds nice!” I smiled and clasped my hands behind my back awkwardly.

Feliciano smiled and nodded then skipped out of the room.

I walked out of the closet and closed the door again. I didn’t really want to leave his room yet, but I know if Lovi catches me here, I’m going to be in trouble. _Ay,_ I just know it.

Maybe I can just look in his bathroom. If he comes in, I’ll just say I needed to use his bathroom. That’s reasonable enough, right?

So I quickly veered my path to the bathroom and shut the door quietly behind me.

“ _Dios mío_ ,” I breathed and stared in awe at the place. This bathroom was even bigger than Lovi’s room! I took a few steps across the perfect white tiles and looked around the corner. Wow! The bathtub is huge! And the shower seems so complex. There are so many different faucets.

Lovi must be even wealthier than I thought. How amazing.

I walked up to the cabinet over the sink and opened it. Everything seemed rather ordinary inside. Toothpaste, toothbrushes, lotions, face washes, floss, razors, and shaving cream. So I closed it and wandered over to the other side.

Lovi had a variety of nice perfumed shampoos and conditioners; it made me smile how fancy all of his bath things were. There was even one of those spongy things.

Near the shower was another larger cabinet and I opened it too. Inside were some of the regular things – like a lot of extra lotions and body washes – but then there was a rather large collection of first aid things which made me pause. Then without thinking, my hands found themselves searching through them and wondering at the variety of different Bandaids and gauzes and tapes and wound closures…there was a lot. Next to that were a few bottles of antiseptic, one of them close to empty.

That familiar, tingling feeling returned in my hands and stomach – like the time I first saw Lovi’s arm, and when Francis said those things – and I feel like something’s off. I just can’t understand what it is. I mean, it’s not out of the ordinary for someone to have Bandaids and stuff in their bathroom, right? I don’t have some, but I think Gilbert’s brother does. And well, he might be pre-Med, but I know other people do that too!

But it’s not just the Bandaids though. I can’t even explain it. There’s just something that feels strange about all of this.

I gave the cabinet one last glance, but I didn’t see anything else of interest, so I closed it with a sigh and tried to erase any evidence of me being there.

I took one last look around Lovi’s fancy bedroom, then wandered out into the hallway.

As I took my time glancing at the framed artwork hanging on the walls my mind started thinking again. Maybe I’m making this too big of a deal. I’m probably blowing this whole thing way out of proportion. I’m sure Lovi just had some sort of accident when he was little and doesn’t like talking about it.

 _Si, si,_ that sounds right.

Right?

“Toni! There you are! I was about to come get you!” Feli popped up in front of me and twirled in his blue apron.

“Oh, _lo siento_ ,” I smiled apologetically and searched for Lovi’s face in the room.

I saw him sitting down at the counter like he was that day, his arms crossed over the marble counter, and his molten brown eyes watching my carefully.

“What happened to you bastard? Did you get lost or something?” He asked, and I saw his thumb rub his wrist automatically.

“Nope! I just needed to use the bathroom and I got caught up smelling all of your nice shampoos!” I lied smoothly and laughed when Lovino’s face reddened in a mixture of embarrassment and anger.

“You went into my bathroom? Damn it, who gave you permission to go in there?” He yelled and pounded a fist against the counter.

“Oh, don’t worry Lovi! I didn’t steal anything, _te promeso_ ,” I winked and sat down at a stool across from him on the island counter.

Lovino pressed his lips together thoughtfully, but didn’t say anything. Then he looked down at his phone and let his hair fall over his eyes.

For a moment I just let him sit there as he aimlessly scrolled through the phone with his thumb. It didn’t seem like he was actually doing anything. He was probably just trying to ignore me.

All the same I liked watching Lovi be. It was interesting to watch the way his face was when he wasn’t scowling at anyone. His long eyelashes brushed against his tan face, and his lips weren’t twisted in a scowl, but just thoughtfully pursed. He really is quite beautiful. There’s sort of a darker, more alluring beauty to him than his brother. But I find it rather fascinating.

Briefly his eyes glanced up, and I met his confusing, gold eyes for half a second before he turned his chin down again, and shielded himself with his bangs.

I wish I were a better artist. Then maybe I could show him what I thought of him. Alfred has a talent for that. But I’m not as skilled with pencil or paint the way he or Lovino is.

I’ve always liked photography though. I wonder if there’s a way for me to capture Lovino.

“Oh, yeah Toni. I’m just warming up some of the lasagna Lovi and I made yesterday. Is that okay with you?”

I turned around and saw Feliciano setting the table with pretty white plates.

“ _Si,_ of course! That’s fine with me!” I said easily, and saw Francis and Gilbert had already moved from the kitchen and were lounging in the living room again.

“How long do you plan on staying here _bastardo_?” Lovino asked quietly, and I caught him blushing again.

“Ah, well I don’t really know. I guess you probably have things to do, huh?”

Lovino bit his lip then said a little more forcefully, “Of course I do damn it! I don’t just lay around eating churros like you probably do. I have to draw…and stuff.” His voice trailed off and he curled his fingers near his mouth and looked away.

“Yeah, I thought so,” I answered with a soft smile, and stared down at the counter. “A-actually Lovino,” I started again on impulse, and stopped when Lovino turned around as wide-eyed as I probably was. “Um, maybe we can hang out sometime. You know, like…outside of school.” I finished lamely and stared at him hopefully.

Honestly, I don’t even know what I was asking. Was I asking Lovino out on a date? Or was this more like a friend thing that Francis and Gilbert suggested? I can’t even tell!

I think Lovino was trying to figure out the same thing I was because for the longest time (at least it felt like) he just looked at me, and his eyes darted around my face – I guess searching for some deeper motive that I may or may not have.

As his face started heating up, I could feel mine was too, and it made out awkward eye contact that much more awkward; but for some reason, neither of us had looked away yet so we just kept staring at each other.

“Uh,” Lovino started, and I held my breath in anticipation. “I – well, um, i-is this like a…teacher thing?” He asked and flicked his eyes down shyly.

“I, uh, I didn’t mean for it to be,” I answered honestly with a quick laugh. Then I added hurriedly, “Unless you wanted it to be, of course!”

At that Lovino furrowed his eyebrows and looked back at me.

“W-Why would I want that?” He asked passionately, and stopped when the last word left his mouth. Quickly, he continued, “I just – I already have to deal with enough of you as a teacher at school. I-I don’t think I could handle more of that outside of school.”

“Oh, okay,” I replied, and caught Francis and Gilbert smiling in our direction briefly.

Gilbert waved his hands encouragingly and Francis mouthed something urging me to continue, so I clenched my jaw and tried again.

“So…maybe we can like hang out as…strangers?”

“Strangers?”

“Oh, wait. That’s not what I meant,” I clenched my eyes shut and frantically searched my find for the words I wanted. What were the words I wanted? Friends? Lovers? What?

“You know, you’re a lot more suave when you’re drunk,” Lovino commented, and I looked up a bit surprised.

“Really?” I asked, and tried to understand Lovino’s reddening cheeks.

“W-well, for a stupid bastard like you anyway,” He clarified and tapped his fingers against the marble.

I figured I had once more chance to ask this, so I clenched my fists and leaned in closer.

“Do you think we can just hang out Lovi? And then I’ll figure out what we are,” I tried to keep my eyes level and set my mouth in a less-goofy, more serious type of smile.

Another blush made its way over Lovi’s cheeks, but he didn’t look at me for long before he retreated his hands from the counter and set them in his lap.

“Fine…bastard. As long as we don’t do something stupid,” He mumbled, and I grinned ridiculously anyway.

“Aw, Lovi! _Gracias_! I promise we’ll have fun!” I exclaimed and leaned over the counter.

Lovino immediately retracted and bent his back as far away from me as possible.

“F-Fine. I get it! Just stay back you _idiota_!” Lovi frowned, but I saw his cheeks were still that adorable shade of red and I couldn’t help but smile anyway.

“Aw, Lovi! Are you two going out on a date?” Feliciano cooed and both Lovi and I turned around to see him sitting down at the table watching us.

“It took a few falters _mon ami_ , but you finally got there. We’re so proud,” Francis said, and Lovi and I whipped around to see he and Gilbert watching us too.

“ _Ja_ , man. Even if you lose your job, it’ll be okay. Maybe you can join my band and we’ll make it big,” Gilbert added with a chuckle.

“Oh, _gracias_ ,” I said nervously as I felt Lovino’s energy grow considerably more violent in the past few seconds.

“God, you guys are such…idiots!” Lovino yelled and stomped out of the kitchen.

“Lovi, wait!” I shouted after him, and kept on his heels as he made his way back to his bedroom.

To my surprise, Lovi did wait, and he stopped against his door to turn slightly in my direction.

“Um, we should decide what to do!” I said and saw Lovi flush another shade of red.

“Alright,” He replied hesitantly, and I grinned automatically.

“Would you like to go to Central Park?”

“What would we do in a park?”

“I don’t know. There are lots of things,” I answered awkwardly and saw Lovino’s dubious frown. “Or we could go see a Broadway play!”

Lovino laughed lightly, and I felt my entire body go light at the sound. I forgot how even more beautiful he was when he laughed! For once his eyebrows weren’t crossed, and his lips were turned in a reluctant smile.

Eventually, Lovino managed to twist his lips down, and say, “I doubt you can afford that. Let’s just go to the dumb park.”

Lovino turned around to open his door, but something came over me and I grabbed his arm to make him face me. Maybe just from sheer surprise, Lovino let spin him around, but then I was left with the problem of what to do.

 _Ay_! I wanted to kiss him, but now I don’t know if I should! I mean, I am his teacher after all, right?

Then I made the mistake of looking into Lovino’s eyes again, and for once they weren’t angry or confusing – for once I think I’m able to read them quite clearly, and, call it my Spanish impulse, but it felt like he wanted me to kiss him.

Who cares about being a teacher anyway?

I quickly grasped the back of Lovino’s head with one hand and his back with my other, then leaned down to his smaller frame and kissed his lips passionately. Lovino’s lips were soft and delicate, and I could feel the slight fear as he tentatively pressed back. His hands wouldn’t move from their place at the door, but I didn’t mind. The very fact that Lovino would let me kiss him at all made my heart so incredibly full to bursting.

I could tell Lovino wasn’t comfortable kissing, so after a few moments, I pulled back far enough away so that I could look at him. His eyes were sparkling and dark, and there were so many emotions running across them I couldn’t tell what he was feeling anymore. But the light blush over his cheeks, and the slight gape to his lips made me feel as if he wasn’t entirely displeased so I smiled lovingly.

“Ah, _lo siento mi querido_. I probably should have saved that for the park,” I chuckled, and retreated my hands back to my sides.

Lovino didn’t say anything and just kept looking at me with this strange, intense glare.

“Don’t apologize _bastardo_ , it makes you sound like an idiot,” He said evenly and twisted the door knob to his bedroom.

Before he could dive into his bedroom, I made the third impulsive move of the day to grab Lovi’s hand and stop him from leaving just yet.

I suppose now’s my chance to be romantic, right?

So with a smooth smile, I kiss the top of Lovino’s hand and say, “I’m looking forward to seeing you again.”

Lovino flushed perhaps the darkest red I’ve seen yet, and snatched his hand away.

“W-whatever,” He muttered and slipped away into his bedroom. Before he shut the door completely however, I caught another glimpse of his face, and he mumbled, “S-see you later.”

He slammed the door loudly, but I didn’t mind. Actually, I barely heard it over the sound of my heart.

Maybe Lovi does like me?

 

~

 

Me (SENT 10:02 am): _Loviiii :D :D :D :D :D :D_

Mi Querido Lovino (SENT 10:03): **Oh my god. What**

Me (SENT 10:03 am): _nothing i just wanted to say hi :D  
_ Me (SENT 10:05 am): _hey why won’t u respond??  
_ Me (SENT 10:07 am): _Loviiiii_

Mi Querido Lovino (SENT 10:07 am): **I’M DRAWING ASSHOLE  
** Mi Querido Lovino (SENT 10:07 am): **Aren’t you supposed to be my teacher?? We’re in the middle of your fucking class**

Me (SENT 10:08 am): _ay, i know  
_ Me (SENT 10:08 am): _but ur just so cuteeee ;D_

Mi Querido Lovino (SENT 10:09 am): **SHUT UP I AM NOT**

Me (SENT 10:09 am): _but you are ;)  
_ Me (SENT 10:10 am): _can i sit with u?_

Mi Querido Lovino (SENT 10:10 am): **What are you asking for my permission for once? You usually do whatever the hell you want**

Me (SENT 10:11 am): _okay, i’ll come over then!_

Mi Querido Lovino (SENT 10:11 am): **Damn it that’s not what I meant!**

 

**~**

 

I ignored the last of Lovino’s text with a giddy smile, and skipped over to his corner of the classroom.

He was already anticipating my arrival, because he had pulled out one of his headphones, and rested his cheek in his palm as he lazily led his pencil across the paper.

So I pulled out the chair where Feli usually was, and sat down.

Lovi glared at me briefly with shining dark eyes, then returned his attention to his sketchbook and pouted.

“So where’s Feli?” I asked nonchalantly. He might be late, but he’s usually here at some point.

“He’s at home. His asthma was acting up, so I made him stay back,” Lovino said and pressed his pencil a little harder to the paper.

“Oh, he has asthma? Is it bad?” I asked and dropped my smile.

“Not usually,” Lovino sighed, and slammed his pencil to the paper. Then he waved his hand dramatically and said, “It’s all that damn potato bastard’s fault! He teaches some fitness class or whatever so of course my dumb fratello was like ‘si, I’ll go’ when he knows he shouldn’t be doing shit like that.”

“He was with Ludwig? Well then he was probably very safe. Ludwig’s a pre-Med student.”

“Yeah,” Lovino clenched his fist. “I know. That’s why I’m mad. He should know that Feli can’t do all of that crazy German workouts. He can’t even walk to the school without carrying his inhaler damn it.”

“Maybe Feli didn’t tell him,” I offered, since it seemed like something Feli would do.

“He didn’t,” Lovino crossed his arms and huffed.

“Oh, then why are you mad at Ludwig?”

“Because – because! Damn it, because I have to be angry at someone! And I don’t want to be mad at Feliciano,” Lovino admitted gruffly and turned his head away from me.

I smiled slightly at Lovino’s stubbornness and kept silent. After a few moments Lovino seemed to grow comfortable again and picked his pencil back up and began to draw again. It made me happy that he seemed so much more comfortable around me than last week, but unfortunately, there was still an unmistakable tension that loomed over Lovino whenever I got close to him. I think Lovino tried to pretend it wasn’t there most of the time, but I can tell whenever we’re close, or our arms accidently brush against each other, he twitches instinctively as his whole body becomes rigid and defensive.

“So Lovi,” I began as I grasped an extra paper and pen lying on the table and began doodling. “Have you thought about when you want to hang out?”

Lovi’s pencil jumped, and he stuttered, “Um, well – I-It’s not as if I have all day to fantasize about our stupid date bastard.”

“Date?” I asked with a wide grin and watched Lovino’s eyes widen in horror.

“I-I…that’s n-not what I –” Lovino hurried to defend himself, but before his face flushed any darker red, I grasped his free hand and pet it soothingly.

“It’s okay Lovi. That’s what I would’ve called it too,” I said under my breath, just in case some of the students not fawning over Alfred were trying to hear us.

Lovi flicked his gold eyes to me shyly, but they seemed to shimmer a bit happier than usual and I smiled a bit more excitedly.

“Tomorrow,” Lovino muttered, and looked down at his sketchbook again. “I…I don’t have classes tomorrow afternoon.”

“Okay!” I exclaimed happily and held Lovino’s little hand a bit tighter. “I have a class that ends at two, but then I’m all yours _mi amor_!”

Lovino flushed and retracted his hand from mine quickly.

“Don’t call me that bastard! I-I may not speak Spanish but I can understand what that means,” Lovino said as he wringed his wrists nervously.

“Is that a problem,” I asked and smiled smoothly.

“Just – I don’t want you to say stuff you don’t mean,” Lovino finished weakly and kept his eyes pointed anywhere but at me.

I looked at him for a moment, and thought carefully about what he said. Lovino’s so sensitive; he must have been lied to and hurt so many times. It might take longer than I thought for him to open up to me.

“Lovino,” I said softly, and smiled when he looked at me. “I would never lie to you.”

Lovino stared at my quietly and didn’t say anything.

Then he tentatively picked up his pencil again, and shifted his shining eyes away from me and back to the paper.

I was satisfied with Lovino simply listening to me, and I returned to doodling tomatoes and turtles happily.

But a few seconds later I hear Lovino whisper, “You better not bastard.”

So I scribbled down a few more things on my piece of paper and handed it to Lovino.

Lovino looked down at my drawing with a critical eye and read the text underneath the tomato – “This is a tomato of promise. Antonio Fernandez Carriedo will never ever lie to Lovi :D.”

I watched Lovino’s face reluctantly change from angry, to frustration to amusement, and eventually he had to laugh.

It didn’t last long, but when he stopped his smile remained and he said, “You’re such an _idiota_.”

I chuckled lightly, which I suppose was the right reaction. In reality however, I felt like those other times I saw Lovino smile. A little bit breathless, a little bit amazed but also so very captivated. I wish to _Dios_ I could kiss him right now, but I guess that’ll just have to wait for tomorrow.

Oh, I can’t wait!

 

~

 

(Lovino’s POV)

 

 

Damn Antonio (SENT 7:24 am): _buenos dias Lovi :D  
_ Damn Antonio (SENT 7:24 am): _i’m looking forward to our date!! :) :) :)_

Me (SENT 7:28): **You fucking asshole  
** Me (SENT 7:28): **Do you have any idea what time it is**

Damn Antonio (SENT 7:29): _lo siento Lovi is it early for u?_

Me (SENT 7:29): **Try three hours early  
** Me (SENT 7:29): **And I only went to bed like two hours ago**

Damn Antonio (SENT 7:31): _mi_ _carino Lovi why???? D:_

Me (SENT 7:32): I **do my best drawing in the morning for some reason  
** Me (SENT 7:34): **Damn it now I’m wide awake  
** Me (SENT 7:34): **What am I supposed to do now?**

Damn Antonio (SENT 7:35): _u can think of what u want for dinner mi amor!!_

Me (SENT 7:35): **Italian**

Damn Antonio (SENT 7:35): _oh wow that was quick_

Me (SENT 7:36): **I had to seal the deal before you offered something stupid like pretzels or churros**

Damn Antonio (SENT 7:36): _mm but churros are delicioso P: i’ll make u some of mine one day_

Me (SENT 7:37): **Right  
** Me (SENT 7:37): **Damn it I guess I might as well take a shower**

Damn Antonio (SENT 7:38): _oh u should use ur rose shampoo! i love the smell of roses :D_

Me (SENT 7:38): **I hate that you know what kind of shampoos I have**

Damn Antonio (SENT 7:39): _;) ;) ;) ;)_

 

~

 

My mouth fought between smiling or frowning for a moment, before I ended up sighing and turning the phone over in my bed.

I guess I should take a shower; I was too tired to take one yesterday.

With another heavy sigh I reluctantly threw off the covers and stumbled out of the bed and to my bathroom. When I caught site of my hair in the mirror I narrowed my eyes, and walked over to the shower.

I paused for a moment and stared at the bathtub. Well, I guess since I have fucking three hours to waste I might as well take a luxurious bath. I mean why not?

I turned on the hot water for the tub, then moved over to the cabinet to get out…the rose shampoo damn it. And not because Antonio liked it; it’s because roses happen to be my favorite too.

I grabbed the body wash, shampoo and conditioner and set them on the marble surface near the tub. Then I added the bubbling soap to the water and sat. It’s a nice and fancy tub and all, but the fact that it’s the size of a fucking Jacuzzi does make it a bit annoying to wait for.

So when the water was three-quarters full, I stood up from the tub and slowly peeled away my sweatpants and long-sleeved t-shirt. I kept my boxers on so I wouldn’t freeze to death while I was still waiting, and grabbed my clothes roughly in my hand to toss them into the hamper.

As I passed by the full-length mirror however, I paused at my reflection and took a deep breath. I turned my left arm over and examined the scars that climbed their way up from my wrist to my elbow. At least they’re…fading. Most of them are white and silvery, almost unnoticeable I think, unless you’re trying really hard to see. And then there are few that stand out above the rest and I bit my lip at the sight of them.

Those were the last few I did on my arm, before I grew too scared to take my blade there anymore. I just couldn’t…feel anything. The pain was barely there and before I knew it I was cutting too deep.

My fingers grazed over the four pink, raised scars and rubbed them subconsciously.

I don’t cut on my arm anymore and I’m trying to stop cutting altogether, but sometimes the tingling feeling in my wrist is so hard to ignore. I can cut anywhere else and it still won’t go away. Cutting my hips and stomach will dull it, cutting my forearm will dull it, but that _feeling_ in my wrist will never actually go away.

Some days it’s worse than others. It’s sort of random really.

But today, it’s really annoying. It’s at the point where my wrist hurts from not cutting. I don’t know if anyone could understand how painful it is not to cut sometimes. It physically hurts more now from not doing anything than it ever did when I cut.

But I can’t cut. Especially not today. I can’t rationalize cutting when nothing has even happened yet. What happened last week was a fluke. I was too angry, too stressed to think: I had to. There was no other way.

Right now however, I’m mentally fine. I’m even borderline happy maybe. That stupid idiot has been haunting my pencil and sketchbooks for the past two nights. Not to mention he’s been texting me stupid smiley faces and babbling on and on about our…date.

I catch myself blushing in the mirror and I roll my eyes and walk back over to the tub.

Damn it, I cannot get myself worked up over a stupid date. It’s not smart and it’s not realistic.

I take off my boxers and tentatively step into the scalding water – just how I like it.

As I sat in the water I turned my arm over and massaged my wrist (the only way I know to soothe it harmlessly) and thought of that day. It’s not as if I’m ashamed of them. Well, maybe just a little. But it’s more like I just can’t bear to see the pity and the sadness in other people’s eyes. It’s almost easier when they don’t care.

Remembering how Feli was when he found out was hard enough. I don’t know if I could handle seeing all of the disappointment and confusion on that dumb bastard’s face if he ever figured it out. It would push him away for sure. He might still talk to me, and he might even fawn over me the way he sometimes does in class. But he’d never think of me the same way.

He’d see me for what I really am. Weak, scared, and broken.

I held my breath and brought my whole body under the water.

It’s so hard. I want to be with him, I just don’t want him to get any closer to me than he already is.

But that’s not possible, is it?

 

~

 

After my bath, I brought out the lotion – yeah, I’m pulling out all of the stops for that damn bastard so he better appreciate it – and massaged my arms once more, trying desperately to rub out the feeling in my wrist for the rest of the day. Of course, it doesn’t completely, but it’s enough for me to ignore it again and I wander over to my closet to choose an outfit.

Well, it’s October in New York, so fortunately it’s cool enough for me to wear just about any of my clothes. It’s a hell of a lot easier dressing myself here than in Italia, that’s for sure.

I thought about wearing a short sleeve shirt and a jacket over it, but after the mishap from last time, I decided against it and took one of my long-sleeved burgundy, Armani shirts and a pair of dark-wash Diesel jeans and got dressed.

It’s still too early for me to leave or anything, but I figure I’ll wear my typical converse. I’m not wearing any of my nice shoes if I’m going to a damn park.

_DING DONG_

I jump at the sound of the doorbell – I really need to tell someone to turn it down a few notches – and automatically rushed out of the room. For some inexplicable, stupid ass reason, there was a part of me that was excited to open the door. Because that same stupid part of me was hoping that somehow it was Antonio.

Of course, when I reached the door and looked through the peephole it was the opposite of Antonio, and probably the last person I wanted to see. Right now or ever.

And even though I would’ve just ignored the potato bastard standing outside the door, all of a sudden I heard Feliciano’s light footsteps pattering down the hall and he hurried over when he saw me standing motionless near the door.

“Lovi! Who is it?” Feliciano asked, slowing down slightly when he started wheezing.

“For God’s sakes, will you please stop running?” I yelled at him more in concern than anger, but he just laughed me off breathlessly. With a frown I decided to answer his question and said, “It’s the potato bastard. Should I let him in?”

Feliciano’s brown eyes widened and he immediately broke for another run to the door.

“Damn it, Feli! I can open it! No need to run over here!” I shouted slightly exasperated and quickly unlocked the door so Feli could yank it open.

In a rush, Feli managed to pull the door open and push me to the side at the same time, and I stumbled to catch my balance.

“Luddy! What are you doing here?” Feli asked with a smile, and I noticed he was still in his matching blue pajama set with dancing cats all over it.

I couldn’t see the bastard yet, but I’m positive he’s blushing like mad. It already took a lot of guts for him to come over here, I’ll admit that.

“Uh, h-hey Feli,” Ludwig started awkwardly, and I wandered over to the door to watch them critically.

I looked over Ludwig’s simple dress shirt and black pants and rolled my eyes. Of course he would dress like a thirty-year old man from a cubicle. Then I saw he was holding a simple rectangular box, and I narrowed my eyes.

“I haven’t seen you since Sunday and,” Ludwig glanced at me nervously and I crossed my arms. “I sort of feel responsible for your asthma attack, so I thought I would come check on you.”

“Really? You were worried about me?” Feli asked with a wide smile and I could feel all of his excitement bouncing around the room.

“What’s in the box?” I asked, and almost smirked when the potato bastard blushed. It's about time it was someone other than me.

“Um, _ja_ , well I had some time this morning, so I thought I would bake you an _Apfelstrudel_. It’s a recipe from my grandfather,” Ludwig said, and handed the package off to Feli’s eager hands.

As soon as Feli grasped the package, I thought he was going to start crying he looked so fucking happy.

“You baked this for me! Oh, it smells so good!” Feli looked from the package to Ludwig and quickly grabbed his arm to pull him in. “You have to stay and eat some with me.

“B-but I already know what it tastes like! I made it!” Ludwig argued but didn’t dare stop Feli’s pull – even though it’s quite obvious it would be fucking easy for him.

“Vee~ I know that! But I want you to join me for a bite! It’s been too long since I’ve seen you,” Feli sing-songed and led Ludwig to the kitchen table.

I hovered near the door for a second or two and tried to decide whether I should wait this whole flirt-tea party thing out, or if I should just book it to the studio and maybe complain about this whole thing to Antonio.

After I saw Feliciano pull out his fancy tea set from Paris I decided it would be better to leave and I quickly walked past the kitchen, down the hallway and back to my bedroom to put on my shoes and grab my messenger bag.

I managed to get ready in record time, and a few minutes later I was back in the kitchen-living room area making fast steps towards the door.

“Lovi, where are you going?” Feli asked, and I glanced over my shoulder at him pouring Ludwig some sort of tea.

The potato bastard looked very torn between happy and confused. Altogether he looked very uncomfortable, but knowing Feliciano, that’ll go away soon enough.

“I’m going to the studio. I’ll be back tonight,” I said quickly and grabbed the door handle.

“Oh, you have your date with Toni tonight, no? Have fun! And _baciarlo molto_ , okay?” Feliciano laughed.

I just ignored him and slammed the door behind me. Damn it, I never thought I would admit it...But I really do want to see Antonio right now. 

Maybe the date won't be so bad.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it just hits me how much better this story would be in third person. And gosh darn it, I’m really sorry about that. But I think, as Lovino has to talk about his emotions and all that jazz, the first person POV will become more relevant. 
> 
> I don’t know. Just bear with it guys. If it doesn’t suck then I’m doing my job.
> 
> Comments are welcome and very enlightening since I don’t know how this story is coming across really. I feel like I’m just paving my own path at this point.
> 
> Thanks for reading! You’re all awesome!
> 
> Till next time :D


	7. Dance in the Country, Pierre-Auguste Renoir, 1883. Oil on Canvas. (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's date time! But Lovi may have a hard time getting there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter is a happy mix of fluff and angst, but the angst includes a relatively graphic self-harm scene, so if that bothers/triggers you at all, please don’t read. 
> 
> Also, I’m sorry if the alternating POVs bothers you. I can’t tell myself if they’re easy to follow, but it’s the best way I can think of to tell the story so just bear with me.
> 
> Hopefully at some point the story will settle down and we can stick to just one POV for an entire chapter. But that's not the case right now.
> 
> That’s all for now, I’ll talk to you more at the bottom :D

(Antonio’s POV)

 

 

 

I looked at the clock and sighed. It was only nine thirty. I heaved another heavy breath and rested my head on my desk. 

 _Ay_ , I have four hours and half until my date with Lovi! What am I supposed to do until then? Most of my classes just work themselves; I usually don’t have much to do.

“Toni! Where are ya?”

I lifted my head up from my desk and caught Alfred – wearing paint-stained overalls and a Rangers jersey – tumble through the door, carrying papers and sketchbooks by the bundle under his arm.

“ _Hola_ Alfred,” I said quickly, and I noticed the long-absent gleam in his blue eyes sparkling now more than ever.

Alfred grinned his mega watt smile and exclaimed, “I found it!”

“Found what?” I asked and tried to help him with his papers.

But Alfred just ignored me and dropped them all on my desk. Then he grabbed a chair from another table and swung it around backwards so he could sit with his arms crossed over the backrest.

“I found my muse!” Alfred continued and started sifting through the papers to pull some out. He pointed to a sort of stern-looking man and said, “It’s him! I’ve seen him at the MET twice now, and I just – I need to paint him!”

“Oh, I see,” I replied with a laugh.

That’s so cute! I was getting worried about Alfred. He hadn’t been as happy as usual since he’d been back from Europe. Who knew it would take a pretty face to bring him around?

“Have you talked to him?” I asked and picked up another sketch of the person reading.

At that Alfred’s head dropped and he groaned.

“No, I haven’t. The first time I was too busy sketching him before he would go away, and the second…” Alfred paused to pound his fist half-heartedly against the chair. “Dang it, he just looks to cool for me to talk to! I haven’t even seen him smile yet. I was too scared to say anythin’.”

“Haha, come on Alfred! You can talk to anyone!” I reassured him and noticed another sketch of the person – but closer to his face. “Wait a minute. Is this…Arthur?”

“You know him?” Alfred asked with wide eyes and I just nodded with a growing smile.

 _Dios Mio_ , it is Arthur! Haha, that’s too funny! I can’t wait to tell Francis and Gil about this. They’re going to think it’s hilarious that Alfred has a crush on they’re British suitemate – especially Francis.

“ _Si, si_ , I know him. He rooms with my two best friends actually,” I chuckled and analyzed some of Alfred’s drawings.

Wow. It’s been so long since I’ve seen his work, I forgot how good he was. He’s definitely at a level close to masterly.

“Holy cow man, that’s great! Now you can help me meet him!” Alfred grinned and looked up dreamily. “Is there anything I need to know about him before I talk to him?”

“Um, well he’s British. He’s also in graduate school for creative writing.”

“Really? Like to write stories for movies and comic books and stuff?”

“Actually, I think it’s mainly for poetry,” I said as I remembered some of Francis’s gossip.

“Oh,” Alfred deflated for a moment. Then he glanced at one of his drawings and smiled again. “Well, I guess that’s cool too. Doctor Seuss and all that. I bet he’s a good poet, huh?"

“Yeah, I think Francis once admitted to me that he’s good. But I’ve heard that lately he’s had some trouble writing.”

“Holy shit, man,” Alfred said and I stared at him blankly. “This…is _destiny_. How often does it happen that two artists as cool as us end up meeting each other when we’re both stuck in a rut?”

“I guess that’s true,” I laughed at Alfred’s enthusiasm. “So do you think you’ll talk to him the next time you see him?”

At that Alfred reddened a bit more and he began smiling awkwardly and scratching the back of his neck.

“Ah, I don’t know. I feel like it’d be weird for me to just come up and talk to him, ya know? But um – maybe you and your friends can help me out,” Alfred said and his face looked more determined.

“Sure amigo, my friends love meddling with Arthur’s life. I think they’d be up for it.”

Alfred grinned and said, “Yes! Sounds great! Now I just have to think of an amazing plan.”

He started gathering his things in his hands to take them over to his desk.

“Do you want me to go ahead and tell Francis and Gil?” I asked and handed Alfred one of his sketchbooks.

Alfred grabbed it with his free hand and said, “Sure man. Maybe they can help me think of something cool.” He was about to turn and head over to his table, but something else occurred to him and he added, “Oh, but um – make sure they don’t mention me or anything to Arthur yet. Okay?”

I was still a bit taken back by how shy Alfred was about this whole thing. He was always so confident and charming with people, I didn’t think he would be nervous with any stranger, nonetheless Arthur.

But I smiled smoothly and replied, “Yeah, of course. I’ll make sure of that.”

“Great! I’ll be over here if you need me,” Alfred said as he walked over to his desk.

Then something occurred to me and I called after him, “Oh, wait a minute Alfred!”

Alfred finished dropping his things on his desk before turning around.

“What is it?” He asked and slowly made his way back over.

“Um, I wanted to ask something kind of random,” I began and took a quick look around the room to see if anyone was listening. “What do you think of Lovi?”

“Lovino? The shy one?” Alfred raised his eyebrows and I nodded in return. “Uh…I dunno know man. He’s a really good artist. I think he might be better than his brother, but that might just be because Feli doesn’t seem to care about it as much.”

“Really?” I asked a bit surprised.

I never doubted that Lovino was an excellent artist, but it never seemed like Feliciano didn’t care for art. I just thought Lovino cared more.

“Yeah, well Feliciano is really good but I can tell his heart isn’t really in it. Maybe he’s doing something else that he likes,” Alfred shrugged his shoulders and I hummed thoughtfully.

“So, um, is that all?” I asked tentatively, unsure of what I was really looking for.

Alfred paused and stared at me silently. Then something occurred to him and he smiled.

“Oh, I get it,” Alfred teased, and even without knowing what he was going to say next I felt myself blush. “You’re worried about that little secret of yours.”

“Huh?” I asked, and blushed more when Alfred gave me a mischievous look.

“Come on man, I’ve seen you two together. I know what’s going on.”

“Oh, no Alfred. That’s not…” I began to protest but stopped when I realized that I guess Alfred’s kind of right now. So I added quietly, “Well, uh, it’s kind of new, so…”

Alfred’s booming laughter shocked me upright and I just watched him go at it for a few seconds.

“I knew it! Man, Emma and I called that one,” Alfred smiled and I just stared at him in horror.

“Wait – the students know? But it just started like this weekend!” I exclaimed a bit loudly, but thankfully no one in this class seemed to care much.

“Please,” Alfred waved his hand. “I saw you fall head over heels for him the first day. You’ve been pretty much fawning over him ever since.”

“Oh, I guess so,” I confessed with a soft laugh. “But that shouldn’t mean we’re in a relationship, right?”

Alfred smiled at me knowingly, “You’re not the only open book in the classroom, ya know. Both you and Lovino are pretty easy to read. The kid pretty much bursts into flames whenever you’re near.”

I covered my face with my hands for a moment and than ran my fingers through my hair.

“ _Ay_ , I didn’t know it was so obvious. You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?” I asked nervously.

“Me? Of course not man! It’s fun watching you guys.”

“And the other students…they wouldn’t say anything, right?”

“Nah, you don’t need to worry. Those kids are basically my little army. They’ll do whatever I say,” Alfred winked at me and I couldn’t help but laugh a bit more genuinely at that. “So then, are you excited for your date today?”

“H-how do you know about that?” I asked and I felt my face heat up again.

“The whole class was listening to your conversation. I’m not the only one who’s excited to hear what’s going to happen tonight. There’s actually a little betting pool going on.”

“Betting? Betting on what?”

“Oh, ya know. Like who pays for dinner, who kisses who first, which apartment you guys’ll go back to…just the usual.”

If my face wasn’t on fire before, it definitely was now. I tried pressing the backs of my hands to my cheeks to cool them down, but nothing seemed to work.

I don’t know what’s more embarrassing. That all of the students in my class know, or that they’re betting on where we’ll be sleeping together. Why do they even assume we’ll be sleeping with each other so soon?

“Oh hey – okay, what the hell is wrong with your face, _idiota_?”

I whipped my head around to see Lovino standing a few feet away from my desk, his messenger bag slung over his shoulder, and his arms crossed nonchalantly.

“Speak of the devil!” Alfred exclaimed and got up from his chair. “Hey Lovino, out of curiosity, is your brother staying at your apartment tonight?”

“Huh? What the fuck kind of stupid question is that? Where else would he go?” Lovino answered angrily and glared daggers at Alfred.

He never did like him much, did he?

“Dunno. Doesn’t matter. That helps a lot though, thanks!” Alfred winked at me again then returned to his desk.

“Well that was weird,” Lovino said as he watched the students slowly gather around Alfred’s table.

“Tell me about it,” I replied nervously, and saw Lovino walking around my desk to sit where Alfred was sitting before.

“So then bastard, did your Spanish food finally get to you or something?”

“Huh?”

“Your face is still bright red. I also think you’re sweating a bit. Are you okay?” Lovino furrowed his eyebrows in concern, but I just laughed him off.

“ _Si, si! Soy muy bueno!_ I think it’s just a bit hot in here. Aren’t you hot?” I deflected but Lovino didn’t bat an eyelash.

“I’m never hot,” He said simply and reached in his bag for something.

As he kept digging, I finally noticed what he was wearing and I let out a soft gasp.

“Oh, wow Lovino. You look so nice,” I said, taking in his smooth, neat hair and fitted, long-sleeved shirt.

When Lovi flipped his hair out of his face in a fit of slight annoyance, I caught the faint scent of…roses. I didn’t say anything, but it made me smile all the same. Lovi’s just too cute.

“What are you talking about   _bastardo_ , I’m no different than usual,” He muttered and finally pulled out his phone from his bag.

“Mm, I think you are. Could it be that _amor_ is taking its hold of us?”

“Do you even hear the crap you say?” Lovino exclaimed, then paused what he was doing to look at me. “And what do you mean us? You look the fucking same too!”

I feigned an expression of insult and held my hand to my chest.

“What are you talking about Lovi? Can’t you see the care I put into my appearance?” 

“No,” Lovino deadpanned.

“What? I’m wearing my nice Tommy Bahama shirt! It doesn’t have any stains on it or anything!” I exclaimed and tried to show off the Hawaiian print with red flowers and olive leaves.

Lovino bit his lip – which I figured out he does when he’s trying not to smile – and said, “It looks stupid.”

“Aww, really? But I’m wearing boxers that match!” I replied enthusiastically.

Lovino flushed red and covered part of his face with one hand.

“D-damn it. Why would you tell me that?” He stuttered and glared at me with flashing eyes.

“ _Lo siento_ Lovi, I was just being funny,” I laughed and leaned across the desk. “So why are you here so early?”

Lovi wiped his face with his hand and sighed.

“It’s all that damn potato bastard’s fault. He decided to come by this morning with stupid strudel. So now he and Feli are having a tea party.”

“Aw, that sounds so cute! I bet Feli’s so happy.”

“Yeah, yeah. Good for him. I just didn’t want to be there.”

“Ah, well I’m glad you came to visit me! We can have a date before our date!” I said and raised my hands in the air.

“No.”

I looked at Lovi curiously, but he just kept a straight face.

“No?” I asked.

“No, I’m going to work,” Lovi answered and I saw him sling the strap of his messenger bag over his shoulder. “You’re already going to waste my afternoon, so I thought I might as well get something done now.”

“Oh, okay,” I replied and watched him walk around my desk and towards the door.

On impulse I grabbed his wrist to stop him from leaving, but I instantly regretted it when Lovi automatically jerked his arm from my grip and stared at me, very startled. The same fear and caution I saw last week was swimming across his eyes.

“Um, I’ll see you later, okay _mi amor_?” I smiled smoothly, and released a relieved breath when I saw a familiar blush creep across Lovi’s cheeks.

Then softly he said, “Yeah, you too.”

And he slipped out the door.

 

~

 

(Lovino’s POV)

 

 

 

“Damn it,” I muttered and ripped the used page from the sketchbook.

That’s the tenth one I’ve ripped since I left Antonio. I can’t fucking draw at all right now. I can’t do anything right now. I’m way too stressed.

Not only that, I just feel sort of…down right now. My emotions are all over the place and I keep focusing on what’s bothering me. I keep seeing Feliciano being happy-go-lucky with his damn potato bastard, and Antonio joking around with his friends and I’m just so envious.

They’re both annoying, but at the same time they’re both exactly what I want to be. Why can’t I just be happy? Why can’t I just talk to people? Why do I keep obsessing over everything I say or do and get so damn embarrassed?

I tossed the sketchbook to the floor and leaned over the table.

But it’s not just jealousy. I’m also just so scared about the date. I don’t know if I can do it. Every time Antonio gets close to me my heart stops beating and I can’t take a single breath. I’m so absolutely terrified that he’s going to figure it out – and I’m even more scared that he’s going to figure out when I’m with him, and that would be ten times worse.

Fuck, what time is it?

I reached into my messenger bag sitting next to me on the table and pulled out my phone.

Great. It’s 1:34. I have less than a half hour to get my shit together.

My eyes flicked to my bag again, and I bit my thumbnail nervously.

I – I know I shouldn’t. It doesn’t seem right to do it before something good is going to happen. But at the same time, I don’t know if I can even pretend to be okay during the date the way I am now.

And it’s been a week since the last time, so it’s still not as bad as it was. If I can just do it now, maybe I’ll be fine for two weeks this time.

I check the time again: it’s 1:37.

Fuck it. I need to.

I jumped from my chair quickly and moved across the empty studio – this is one of the ones reserved for students to work whenever they want – and shut the door. I can’t lock it obviously, but I’ve been here before at this time of day, and no one should come in.

Just in case, I take my wallet from my messenger bag and walk into the storage room of the studio and shut that door behind me too.

I flicked on the lights and opened my wallet.

As I’m sliding the blade from behind one of my credit cards I noticed that my breathing had become noticeably heavier and my wrists were already tingling in anticipation. Except I can’t cut there. I can’t.

I’m already taking a huge risk by cutting before I’m meeting up with someone; cutting my wrists would just be reckless. Not to mention I’m not sure if I trust myself to cut there anymore. No matter how tempting it is right now.

So I pulled my shirt off as fast as I can and tossed it to the side. Then I scanned my body for a place. I glanced at the cuts from last week, now scabbed lines near my hipbone. I decided to move a bit above those and I hovered my blade.

I pressed the edge to my skin and slowly pulled across, savoring the feeling of splitting my skin open. The first cut is always the best release. It’s the most painful one.

A gasp escapes my lips as if I’ve been holding my breath for a week. Finally, my head feels light and everything that was bothering me is distant and invisible.

I waited for blood to fill the narrow gap I made and then I repeated the process. I do it again. And again. And again. And again. And then I make myself stop to look.

Five cuts. None of them are dangerously deep, just deep enough to scar. Fortunately, it’s in a place easy enough to hide, and I know they’ll be safe.

I watched my blood trickle down my side for a bit, then reached for my wallet and put the blade back in its hiding spot. I take out one of the Band-aids hiding in the pocket underneath my ID, and peal away the disposable pieces.

I realized that I forgot to resupply my stash of cotton pads to stop the bleeding, and I ended up ripping a sheet of paper towel and dabbing my cuts with that.

The bleeding hasn’t stopped of course, but after dabbing it for a bit my skin’s dry enough for me to put on the Band-aid, and that’ll keep the cuts sealed.

As soon as that’s done, I picked up my shirt, slowly put it back on, and walked out of the storage room with my wallet in hand.

I reached my desk and put my wallet safely away into my messenger bag, then I sit down and stare at the table absentmindedly.

This is what I miss most. The invincibility cutting gives me afterwards. All of my emotions fall away with my blood, and all that’s left is the physical pain – and I’ve never minded that. I have to be careful not to seem too empty when I’m with Antonio. I know I act noticeably calmer after I cut and it’s something a nosy idiot like him would notice.

I sighed, and savored one last moment of this detachment. I looked it up once – just to know what the official term was – and I guess doctors call it dissociation.

The way they described it was so dead and scientific, like how I’m sure the potato bastard would probably describe it, and I couldn’t help but feel like they completely missed what dissociation or whatever feels like for the person.

Of course, when I think of the way I would describe it to someone – if there was ever a someone I absolutely had to – I can only think of a few words that apply.

Relaxing comes to mind.

And then just…nice.

_Ding_

I tore my eyes away from empty space and focused on my phone lighting up on the table.

My fingers unlocked it subconsciously and I stared at the screen.

Damn Antonio (SENT 2:01 pm): _mi querido Lovi :D :D :D  
_ Damn Antonio (SENT 2:01 pm): _i’m all done with work if u want to stop by my studio!!  
_ Damn Antonio (SENT 2:02 pm): o _r i can come find u wherever u are!!_

I hesitated for a moment, then typed.

Me (SENT 2:04 pm): **I’ll come find you**

 

~

 

(Antonio’s POV)

 

 

 

I looked at Lovi’s text message with a giddy smile and made one last sweep of my desk to make sure I have everything.

“Hey man, I’m taking off. But I hope you have fun!” Alfred grinned as he walked past and I smiled equally as wide.

“Gracias Alfred! I hope it goes well,” I said the last part more to myself but Alfred caught it and paused near the door.

“I wouldn’t worry so much man. He obviously likes you. Just…maybe just go somewhere with not so many people. That seems to stress him out a bit,” Alfred looked up thoughtfully and I nodded.

“ _Si_ , you’re probably right,” I muttered and started wondering if going to a crowded park was a good idea.

“Have fun though!” Alfred slapped me on the back playfully and walked out.

I rubbed my back a little from the sting – Alfred has always been stupidly strong – and looked at the ceiling.

Where should we go instead? Hm, there has to be something I haven’t thought of. I would say movie, but then Lovi and I wouldn’t get to talk much. And for some reason, Lovi seems like the type who would fall asleep during a movie.

Hm…

“ _Idiota_ ,” Lovino announced his arrival and I looked away from the ceiling to make eye contact with him.

His eyebrows were cross and he was pouting slightly, but his eyes didn’t seem as tense as they were when he left. I guess drawing must have helped him.

“ _Mi amor_!” I exclaimed and ran up to him to quickly wrap my arms around him.

“H-hey! What are you doing?” Lovi yelled near my ear, but I just held the back of his head and nuzzled my nose near his nice-smelling hair.

I felt Lovi place his fingers on my arms gently, unsure of whether to return the hug I guess, but I decided not to push him so soon and I slowly released him.

“ _Lo siento_ , Lovi. I just missed you,” I said with a smile and admired the golden gleam in Lovi’s eyes.

Lovi bit his lip briefly and looked away as a blush crept over his cheeks.

“Fine,” He muttered and crossed his arms to prevent me from coming any closer.

“So then Lovi, are you ready?”

“Yeah, I gu –” 

“Ready to embark on our first adventure in our great tale of _amor apasionado_?”

“ _Mio Dio_ ,” Lovi exclaimed and waved one of his clenched fists in the air. “How can you just spout such stupid shit all of the time?”

I laughed light-heartedly and said, “When I’m happy I say a lot of silly things.”

“Whatever,” Lovi muttered and he recrossed his arms. “Do you want to go or not?”

“I’m all yours _mi querido_ ,” I sing-songed and followed Lovino’s brisk pace out of the classroom.

We walked side by side for a bit, just the sound of our shoes clacking again against the hard floors filling the silence.

Then I leaned next to Lovino and whispered, “Do you think I can hold your hand?”

“W-what? We’re in your fucking school _idiota_!” Lovino replied harshly and looked at me.

After I didn’t say anything, Lovino turned away and I saw his cheeks redden more with each step.

“J-just wait ‘til we’re outside,” Lovi added quietly and I smiled excitedly to myself.

After another few quiet minutes of walking, Lovi pushing open the door and I followed him out.

He kept hurrying down the steps and heading towards the sidewalk, and I had to keep a fast pace to stay close.

“Lovi,” I called and I saw stop abruptly.

He waited for me to end up beside him, and then immediately pick up his usual stride.

“Lovi,” I said again.

“What?”

“You have to uncross your arms if I’m going to hold your hand,” I smiled at Lovi’s familiar blush.

Hesitantly, he dropped his arms to his side and I grasped his right hand eagerly.

I felt the callous along his third finger – it’s much more pronounce than mine ever was. The rest of his hand was soft though, and rather cold.

“So I was thinking,” I began and noticed Lovi’s hand tensed slightly. “Do you want to go to Central Park, or would you prefer somewhere else?”

Lovi’s hand relaxed and he replied, “I don’t really like parks…but also I don’t know what to do in this damn city. I just draw.”

“Oh, I see,” Was all I said and I kept thinking.

“Wait, are you saying that we’re walking in a random direction without even knowing were we’re going?” Lovi snapped and stopped our walking.

“Haha, maybe! But just give me a moment. I’m thinking,” I laughed nervously and curled my free hand near my mouth. “Do you like movies?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Oh, wait – we can’t go to a movie.”

“Huh? Why?” Lovi narrowed his eyes, but I just kept searching through my ideas. “Look you don’t need to strain yourself. We can just go shopping or whatever.”

“Shopping?” I looked at Lovi curiously.

“I like shopping,” Lovi said simply and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Okay!” I replied and tugged his hand in the other direction. “Anything for _mi querido_ Lovino!”

 

~

 

I stayed close behind Lovi and looked around the room anxiously.

“Lovi…” I said shyly.

“What is it?”

“Am I allowed to be in here?”

“What? Of course you are. It’s a fucking store. They want people to come in.”

“But this place…it’s so fancy,” I muttered and tried to keep my hands as far from the merchandise as possible.

“Oh, come on. It’s not that fancy,” Lovi rolled his eyes and kept searching through their suit jackets.

“Lovi…this is _Armani_. I may not know as much as Francis does about fashion, but I do know this is a really expensive store,” I whispered harshly and jumped when I caught the scary security guard giving me a glare. “A-and I haven’t told you this, but I’m sort of poor.”

Lovino laughed briefly and replied, “I already know that _idiota_.” He lifted a nice, grey suit from the rack and looked at it. “Should I get a suit or a coat? A suit or a coat…”

I watched Lovi examine the suit critically and feel the inside of the jacket with his fingers. He looks so at home here. It’s actually really cool how he doesn’t seem to notice how every single employee is giving us evil stares right now.

“Fuck it, I’m getting a coat,” Lovi said and he wandered over to another part of the store.

“Lovi,” I said quietly and he just hummed in response. “Uh, do you mind if I choose the next store we go to?”

I saw him roll his eyes, but he said, “Sure, that’s fine.”

Lovi lifted a particularly elegant black coat from the rack and stared at it. Then he shoved his messenger bag into my hands as he slipped on the coat.

“Oh wow, you look so handsome, Lovi!” I exclaimed and admired the way the coat complimented his square shoulders and slender physique.

“It’s just the coat,” He mumbled as he fumbled with the buttons and turned sideways to see himself in the mirror.

“No, no – I mean the coat’s nice, yes. But you’re so much more beautiful than the coat,” I admitted honestly, and caught one of the salespeople closing in on us.

 _Ay_ , they must not have liked that I said Lovi looks just as good without it.

I turned away from the employee to look back at Lovi, and I found him staring at me wide-eyed and very confused.

“Why would you say that?” He asked and I wished I understood that desperate shine to his eyes.

“Because it’s true of course,” I smiled and caught Lovi blush slightly before facing the mirror again.

“You look very handsome in that coat, sir,” A young lady said smoothly to Lovino.

“ _Grazie tanto_ ,” Lovino answered and smiled an uncharacteristically charming smile in the woman’s direction.

Hey! Why doesn’t he do that with me?

Lovi circled once more in the mirror before announcing casually, “I think I’ll take it.”

“Wonderful, I’ll take that and ring you right up.”

Lovi handed his coat to the lady with a wink, then turned to me to grab his messenger bag.

He slung the strap over his shoulder and paused.

“Um, thanks for saying that,” Lovi mumbled and turned towards the cash register.

I smiled after him and clasped my hands together. But I caught the security guard gripping his taser and I skipped over to Lovi’s side as he was paying.

“Alright then, that’ll be three thousand, five hundred and seventy-five dollars and ninety-eight cents.”

Lovi opened his wallet and handed one of his credit cards to the lady.

The rest happened in a blur because I was too stunned by the numbers to pay attention to the lady hand Lovi his receipt or his bag.

When we were on the street though I managed to ask, “Lovi, do you normally spend that amount?”

“I guess it depends. But yeah, more or less,” He said nonchalantly and kept walking.

“I see. You’re kind of like a prince, aren’t you?” I said and grasped his hand again.

Lovi chuckled softly and I smiled at the sound.

“You really do say stupid things.”

“Maybe,” I admitted and a place occurred to me. “Oh, Lovi I know where I want to go next!”

“Alrigh – hey! Stop yanking on my arm!” Lovi yelled as I twisted him around in the other direction.

“I promise it’ll be worth it _mi amor_!” I sing-songed and squeezed his hand excitedly.

“Whatever,” Lovi breathed and we walked briskly down the street.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah...I'm sorry I stopped at an awkward point, but the next chapter would start best with the next scene.
> 
> But I'd like to give a quick thank you to the new comments and kudos! It makes me happy that people find the story interesting to read! Even though it isn't the happiest fic around.
> 
> And the next chapter is already started, so it won't be too long of a wait, I promise.
> 
> Til next time :D


	8. Dance in the Country, Pierre-Auguste Renoir, 1883. Oil on Canvas. (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the date continues for the fluffy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Argh. This chapter was hard to write. Like Lovino, I've been having trouble sleeping, so I was too exhausted to concentrate on most of it.
> 
> But I got through it somehow! 
> 
> Enjoy the fluffy feels :)

(Antonio’s POV)

 

 

 

“What do you think of this one?”

“Hm, ugh. No, it’s too sweet.”

“This one?”

“Too fruity.”

“This one?”

“Why the fuck do you like such girly scents?” Lovi yelled as he snatched the sample lotion from my hands. “This one’s called Hawaii Passionfruit Kiss!”

“I know, it’s cute!” I replied with an easy laugh.

“It’s not,” Lovi huffed and put the sample back on the shelf.

“Okay, what sort of scents do you like?” I asked and watched how Lovi’s face turned from annoyed to embarrassed so quickly.

“I don’t know,” He muttered and reached for another sample from the shelf. “ _Mio Dio_ , this is like smelling cookie dough or something!”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” I chuckle and lean over to sniff it. “Oh, I like that one. What’s it called?”

Lovi narrowed his eyes at the label and said, “Velvet Sugar. You know Antonio, I think you don’t have any sense of smell left. You must hang out here too often.”

“But it’s fun! They don’t have places like this in _España_ ,” I replied with a smile and grabbed another sample. “You know I think I could work here.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Lovi mumbled and put the Velvet Sugar back on the shelf.

“Oh, how about this one? Do you like it?” I asked and held the lotion near Lovi’s nose.

Lovi closed his eyes briefly to smell it, and said, “That’s not bad.”

“Really? You like it?”

“Yeah, sure,” Lovi said and looked at the bottle. “Moonlight Path? Moonlight doesn’t smell like anything! Why the fuck would they name it that?”

“Because it’s romantic,” I replied happily and winked.

“That’s stupid,” Lovi said and pushed the lotion away from his face.

As Lovi kept moving towards the candles, I kept going through the lotion samples and trying to find one he would like.

“Oh, Lovi,” I called and skipped over to his side with the sample behind my back.

He looked over his shoulder and asked, “What is it?”

“This next lotion I have is a test, okay? If you like it, then it means we’re meant to be together,” I said with another wink and held the lotion in front of me with my hand covering the label.

“Stop winking, it makes you look like your stupid French friend,” Lovi replied quickly with a frown, then glanced down at the lotion. “And also, why the fuck would you weigh so much on a goddamn lotion?”

“Aw, come on Lovi! It’s fun! Just smell it, please?” I whined and pushed the lotion closer to Lovi’s face.

“Fine, you baby!” Lovi snapped and lowered his head to the lotion to smell it. He opened his eyes dreamily and said, “That’s nice.”

“Ah, do you really mean that Lovi?” I asked and my grin widened in anticipation.

“Yeah,” He admitted and his face slowly reddened. “Now why the fuck is this lotion so important?”

“Get ready,” I told him playfully and removed my hand from the bottle. “Ta da!”

Lovi stared at the bottle, and his expression shifted from surprised to embarrassed to annoyed and he grabbed the bottle from my hand.

“‘Mad About You’? _Dio_ , that’s such a stupid name!” Lovi yelled but I could tell it wasn’t as heartfelt as usual.

“I think it’s accurate,” I said smoothly and leaned in to kiss Lovi’s cheek.

Surprisingly, Lovi didn’t try to push me away, but when I retreated he immediately shoved his elbow in my direction and pretended he had been trying to get rid of me all along. So cute…

Without looking at me, Lovi muttered, “You’re so stupid.”

“Stupid with love maybe!” I sing-songed and laughed when I saw Lovi cover his face with his hands.

“Oh my God, stop talking,” Lovi ordered and he kept his hands over his cheeks.

“Haha, okay. I think I’m going to get that anyway. Do you want anything?”

Lovi removed his hands from his face and crossed his arms.

“No, I’m fine,” He said and kept his eyes averted from mine.

“Alright _mi amor_! I’ll be right back! Don’t run away with another handsome Spaniard while I’m gone!” I called as I walked away to get the lotion I wanted.

“I said stop talking!” Lovi yelled and he tried to hide his flushed face again.

When I walked past him again to go to the register I saw he had put in his headphones and was making an obvious show of looking anywhere but at me.

He’s so funny, I thought.

I paid for my things and walked back to the candle aisle, my shopping bag in hand. I spotted Lovi scrolling on his phone and facing away from me, so quietly I snuck up on him and grabbed him by the waist.

“ _Hola_!” I cooed happily in his ear, and laughed when Lovi jumped.

“B-bastard,” Lovi stuttered and escaped my grasp quickly. He stared at me and held his fist in between us. “Don’t scare me like that!”

“ _Lo siento,”_ I whispered and pulled Lovi closer again. When I placed my hands on his hips I saw his eyes widen – which I’m guessing is from his adorable embarrassment – and I leaned in to kiss him quickly.

I didn’t kiss him for long before his cold hands circled around my wrists and tore us apart. Then gently, he pulled back and kept his eyes on the ground as his face reddened with every passing second.

“Let’s keep going,” He said softly and he intertwined one of his hands with mine and led me forward.

“Okay, _mi amor_ ,” I replied with a smile, but noticed Lovi’s face was tense with worry.

Why would that be?

 

~

 

For a while we kept visiting random shops, and making fun of things but as we went along Lovi was getting quieter and quieter and I wondered if he was getting tired.

“Hey Lovi…”

Lovino’s head turned slightly in my direction and he mumbled, “Yeah?”

“Are you tired maybe? We can rest for a bit before we go out for dinner,” I offered and saw Lovi’s eyes glance up at mine curiously.

“Where’d we go?” He asked and readjusted the strap of his messenger bag.

“Well, we could go to my apartment! It’s not too far from here,” I said with a smile.

“I thought we go there after dinner,” Lovino deadpanned and I just stared at him.

“W-wait – you mean?” I asked hesitantly and noticed Lovino’s face flush red again.

“It was a fucking joke you _idiota_!” He yelled and slipped his hand out of mind to cross his arms. “Damn it, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

I watched him for a few seconds as I tried to grasp what happened, and then I realized Lovi was sulking in embarrassment and I hurried back to his side.

“No, no Lovi! It was funny! I’m just sort of slow,” I laughed nervously and saw Lovi roll his eyes.

“Yeah, whatever,” He muttered and kicked a rock as he walked.

“Aw, Lovi. You’re mad at me,” I whined playfully and poked his shoulder.

“I’m not mad,” He said and turned his face away.

“You are. You’re pouting,” I pointed out, but Lovi didn’t twitch in my direction. “What can I do to make it up to you?”

Lovi didn’t say anything and kept walking.

“I’ll…give you a massage!”

He raised his eyebrow at me.

“I’ll cook your dinner!”

Lovi rolled his eyes.

“I’ll sing for you!”

“You sing?” Lovi asked dubiously.

“Of course I sing! All Spaniards sing!” I exclaimed enthusiastically, and I saw Lovi give a small smile. “Ah, see! I made you smile! Come on – let’s go to my apartment.”

“Damn it, I was not smiling! You’re exaggerating!” Lovi shouted, but all the same let me grab his hand and turn him around.

 

~

 

“Wow.” 

“Isn’t it cute?”

“Cute wasn’t the word I was going to use,” Lovi replied dryly, but I just laughed and dropped my bag on the floor.

Lovi followed me hesitantly, and it looked like he was unsure of where to go.

“You can make yourself at home Lovi. I don’t have anything expensive for you to break,” I said happily and wandered over to my pet turtle’s tank.

“Why do you think I would break anything? You’re the clumsy one!” Lovi yelled and I heard him drop his bags next to mine.

“Come here Lovi! Do you want to meet Pablo?”

“Damn it, don’t just ignore me! And who the fuck is Pablo?” Lovi shouted, and sauntered over to my side.

Then he looked in the tank.

“Isn’t he cute?” I asked and watched Lovi’s curious eyes narrow at Pablo.

“He’s a turtle,” Lovi replied simply.

“He is!” I said and put my hands in the tank to pick him up. “I really wanted a pet, but I couldn’t get a dog or a cat in this apartment, so I got the next best thing!"

“Which is a turtle?” Lovi raised an eyebrow at me.

“ _Si_!” I exclaimed and pushed Pablo in front of his face.

Lovi looked at it suspiciously and made no move to pet or touch it.

“Is it…nice?” He asked hesitantly and kept his hands to his chest.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, like is that thing going to bite me or something?”

“What? Of course not! Pablo’s a nice turtle!” I insisted and pushed him closer to Lovi.

Tentatively, Lovi extended his hands out in front of himself and I placed Pablo on his palms.

“He’s cold,” Lovi said and watched Pablo squirm slowly in his hands.

“Well, he is a turtle.”

“Yeah, I get that! You’ve said that like ten times already,” Lovi replied impatiently and tried to give him back to me. “Take it.”

“Aw, but you just started holding him,” I complained and kept my hands out of the way.

“There’s nothing else to do. He’s not a fucking cat or whatever,” Lovi said and pushed him closer to me. “Look, if you don’t take him back I’m putting him on your head.”

“Okay, okay,” I laughed and picked Pablo up from Lovi’s hands.

As I put Pablo back in his tank, I saw Lovi move across my apartment towards the kitchen. Then I heard the sink run and I chuckled some more.

“So Lovi, what do you want to do?” I asked as I put the lid back on the tank.

“I don’t know. Lay down?” He said as he was already moving towards the couch.

I watched him curl up on the couch near the armrest and sighed. He must have been really tired.

“Lovi,” I called as I walked towards the kitchen. “Do you want to just have dinner here?”

He didn’t say anything, so I went back over to the couch and peered over his face.

“Lovi, did you hear me?”

Lovi looked up at me and frowned.

“I was thinking,” He mumbled, and readjusted the pillow underneath him.

“Aw, you look so cuddly. Do you mind if I join you?” I asked and jumped on the couch anyway.

“Hey, you didn’t give me any chance t – damn it! Let me go!” Lovi shouted as I pulled him onto my lap.

“Come on, Lovi. Don’t you want to cuddle with me?” I laughed and gave him a short hug.

“I don’t cuddle,” I protested and nudged out of the hug. Then he leaned his head back and rested it on the armrest. “Why don’t you turn on the TV or something?"

“Fine,” I sighed and grabbed the remote.

After my little TV turned on I scrolled for a little while through the channels, and stopped on an animated movie.

“What is this?” Lovi asked.

I didn’t say anything.

“Yo, Antonio. What is this?” He repeated, but I kept quiet. Then I heard his voice rise and he asked, “Damn it, now you’re the one pouting.”

I pressed my lips together to keep myself from smiling.

“God fucking damn it. You’re a real baby, you know that?” He muttered and readjusted himself so that he was on my lap again.

Quickly, I wrapped my arms around him, and laughed.

“Aw, _gracias mi amor_. You’re so sweet,” I kissed his cheek briefly and saw him flush red.

“I’m not sweet,” He said quietly, and kept his eyes on the TV.

“ _Si_ , you are,” I whispered near his ear. “And you’re beautiful and talented too.”

“You’re blind,” He mumbled, and I saw his face darken another shade of red. “W-what is this anyway?”

With a small smile I turned towards the TV again.

“Oh, this is _Ratatouille_.”

“Am I supposed to know what that means?”

“What? You’ve never heard of it?”

“Well, unlike you I’m not spending my afternoons watching TV. I’m drawing,” He said simply, and I caught the corner of his mouth turn up slightly as he watched the TV.

For a little while, we didn’t say much, and as Lovi kept staring at the TV attentively, I liked to look at his expression. It was as if he’d never seen a cartoon before: he looked so interested. And now that his brown eyes were looking away, I noticed how tired they looked. For some reason when he looked at me I was always distracted by the radiant golden color of his eyes to notice much else. But now I could see purple-ish shadows dusting underneath his tan skin.

“Hey Lovi, are you sleepy at all?” I asked, and Lovi slowly turned towards me.

“A bit,” He admitted dryly and looked back at the TV. “You woke me up early this morning, you know.”

“Oh, _lo siento_. I didn’t mean to,” I apologized and brushed some of his hair away from his eyes.

Lovi blushed a bit more when I touched him, and replied, “It’s fine. I probably would’ve woken up sooner or later anyway. I can’t sleep much these days.”

“Oh no, _mi tomatito_!” I exclaimed and hugged him tight again. “Why don’t you take a nap now? I don’t mind.”

I expected him to protest, or at least try to push me away for a good ten more minutes before he accepted; but instead, he let me hug him, and he laid his head softly against my chest.

“Okay,” He said tiredly.

And in a few minutes, he was sleeping soundly.

 

~

 

“ _Bastardo_.”

I breathed deeply and ignored the voice.

“Hey, _idiota_.”

I turned my head over.

“Damn it.”

My eyes blinked once.

“…Antonio, wake up.”

Slowly, I opened my eyes, and then even more slowly I tried to prop myself up on the couch. Then I looked down and found Lovino flustered and frowning underneath me.

“You fell asleep on top of me,” He said and glared at me.

“Oh,” I yawned and smiled down at him. “You look so cute when you wake up!”

“Tsk – I didn’t just wake up! Once you collapsed on top of me I couldn’t sleep!” He protested and turned his face away.

“Really? Oh, I’m sorry. I was hoping you could catch up on your sleep,” I commented and reached into my pocket to check my phone for the time. Then when I saw it, I said, “It’s midnight.”

Lovi blushed and muttered, “Y-yeah.”

“Well then I guess you were able to sleep after all,” I grinned knowingly and Lovi tried to push me off some more.

“Shut up you bastard! It was that damn rat that put me to sleep, not you!” He shouted and managed to slide his legs off of the couch.

“What are you doing?” I asked, and watched Lovi sway slightly as he got up from the couch.

“I’m hungry,” He said, and wandered over to the kitchen.

“Oh, let me try to cook something for you!” I declared and quickly followed him.

“Do you want to cook?” Lovi asked and raised an eyebrow.

“Of course! I’m an excellent cook,” I winked at him and grabbed my apron from the chair. “Don’t you remember the spaghetti I cooked you?”

Lovi’s eyes widened slightly and I noticed he immediately pulled his sleeves down and crossed his arms. He looked so scared all of a sudden, I began to regret saying anything at all.

I thought I would have to speak first, and maybe apologize, but after a long moment Lovino carefully said, “Why don’t you try lasagna this time?”

I watched his hands claw into his shirt and I wondered if even knew he was doing that. He was so stressed.

Smoothly, I walked over to him and pulled his face close to mine. I looked into his eyes and they were shining with an emotion I didn’t understand. So I did the only thing I could think of to comfort him.

“Okay, _mi amor_ ,” I said and pressed my lips to his gently.

And I think I saw a tear escape his eye, but when I pulled back it was gone.

 

~

 

Lovi ended up spending the night. I sort of insisted after we finished dinner at one in the morning. I let him sleep in my bed, and after I pleaded and begged and pointed out we had already technically slept together before, he reluctantly let me sleep with him. He didn’t like it at first, and he complained for a good fifteen minutes that my bed was “puny” and “uncomfortable,” but in another five minutes he was fast asleep in my arms.

The next day, we both had to get to class, and we knew this, but we weren’t quite sure how to go about it without being obvious.

For one thing, Lovi was still wearing his clothes from yesterday, and though I offered to let him borrow one of my shirts, he took one look at them and said he’d survive wearing his own. He also said that nobody would remember what he was wearing, but after hearing what Alfred said, I’m not so sure.

In any case, after we had breakfast, I decided to go first, and Lovi said he’d follow about a half hour later, around the same time he’d usually arrive.

So now I’m sitting in my studio alone, staring at the ceiling and replaying yesterday in my head. It was so wonderful and interesting, but I still feel like there’s something about Lovino I don’t understand. I also feel like he won’t let me try to.

I sighed and rested my elbows on my desk.

I wonder where Alfred is? He’s usually here by now. It’s almost time for Lovino to arri–

“Hey _bastardo_.”

I whipped my head around and caught Lovino storming past me, and heading straight for his usual desk.

“ _Hola, mi amor_! Long time no see!” I called after him happily, and Lovino flushed.

“Damn it, how obvious can you be? Just call me Lovino here, _idiota_ ,” He said and dropped his messenger bag on his desk.

“Oh, okay,” I replied a bit sadly. That’s not nearly as fun.

Lovino turned back towards me and it looked like he was about to say something; but before he had a chance, Alfred came bursting through the doors.

“Toni! Okay, Toni, I have the best idea ever!” He yelled and quickly maneuvered himself around my desk and sat down across from me.

“Oh really? For what?” I asked and caught Lovi pulling out his sketchbook.

“For how I can talk to Arthur, duh!” He exclaimed and his blue eyes glittered in excitement. “So listen – we should organize a few art receptions with some of the other undergrad students and invite the general public to come. Then you’re friends can drag Arthur along to one of them and he can see some of my amazing artwork and I can talk to him!”

“Oh,” I said and thought for a moment. “That sounds like a good idea Alfred! I’m sure a lot of students would be into that.”

“Yeah man, I know! I have my whole little gang here that’ll back me up,” He laughed and crossed his arms triumphantly. Then something occurred to him and he leaned forward, “Oh yeah, I forgot to ask, but how did the date go?”

My eyes widened and in the background I caught Lovi staring at Alfred and I with a petrified red face. _Ay_ , he’s going to be mad when he finds out Alfred knows.

“Uh,” I muttered awkwardly and gestured behind Alfred with my eyes.

Alfred squinted in confusion but turned around. Then he burst out laughing and I swear I thought Lovino was going to walk up and punch him in the jaw.

“Well then, Toni. I guess the date went well, after all,” He chuckled as he looked back at me. “Did you go to his apartment or yours?”

“Um, m –”

“Damn it, don’t answer him _bastardo_!” Lovi interrupted and slammed his fists on the desk.

“Aw, it’s okay Lovino,” Alfred waved casually in his direction. “I promise I won’t tell on ya. Besides, today you’ve already won me fifty dollars.”

Lovi flipped him off and opened his sketchbook.

“Come on lil’ guy. Don’t be like that! I’m inviting you to the art reception if that’ll win you over. You can show off all of your mad skill,” Alfred said with a charming smile, and Lovi just pursed his lips.

“Whatever,” Lovi mumbled, and he started sketching.

Alfred turned back to me and asked, “Is that a yes?”

“ _Si_ , it usually is.” I smiled and watched Lovi draw furiously in the background.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. Another chapter, but still not much accomplished plot-wise (there's a plot?).
> 
> At least I kind of set it up for the plot to follow?? Meh. 
> 
> In any case, I have the ending written already - because I could not get it out of my head for the life of me - so I know what I have to do to get there.
> 
> Quick Note: I didn't know how to mention this in the chapter, but Lovino and Antonio are at Bath and Body Works in the first scene. For whatever reason, all of the football players in my class were obsessed with that place, so I thought it'd be cute if Antonio was too.
> 
> Also, Pablo, the turtle, is named after Pablo Picasso.
> 
> ~
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! And to those who kudos-ed and commented, thank you so much as well :D 
> 
> Til next time! :D


	9. Cat and Bird, Paul Klee, 1928. Oil on canvas.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's just one of those days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real quick, I'm sorry if Sweden's speech is a bit off. I had a tough time figuring out how much of a clipped accent he should have, and I'm slightly worried it came out a bit hard to understand. If anyone has a helpful suggestion of how to fix it, I'd be happy to listen!
> 
> So with that - We're just jumping right into this chapter. I'm done being that damned rambler that I am. Prepare to be hit with the (kind of) plot!
> 
> TW for references and kind of depictions of self-harm.

(Lovino’s POV)

 

 

 

I can’t move.

Damn it. It’s going to be one of those days, I can already tell.

I turned over on my side and glanced at the alarm clock sitting on my nightstand.

8:01 am.

With a sigh I rolled onto my back and closed my eyes. I don’t know if I want to go to school today. Scratch that. I know I don’t want to, I just don’t know if I _can_.

I’m tired, sure. But I’m always fucking tired. It’s a bad combination being a nightowl, an insomniac, and an artist: it’s just asking for dark circles and a pissed off attitude.

No, I’m more than tired. I’m…depressed.

I’m not even sure I can talk right now. It literally took everything out of me to turn over and check the damn time. My mind just feels so heavy. There’s not anything on my mind really, which is unusual. I think it’s just an overall sadness or whatever the fuck that’s keeping me pinned onto the bed.

What should I do? Would Feli let me skip class? Would he notice? He’s hardly ever in the damn school, since he’s always drinking that fucking, German coffee.

I opened my eyes and traced the outlines of the overhead fan.

Would Antonio notice? Probably. It’s not as if he does anything but doodle at my desk. Would he care?

I…don’t know.

Damn it. If I don’t go, he’s going to ask Feli, and Feli – depending on whether he’s actually in class or not – is going to either tell him I wasn’t feeling well, or tell him to check on me. There’s no way I’m getting into that situation again. I just have to pretend like I’m fine, no matter what it takes.

With another groan, I crawled to the side of the bed and slide my legs over. I cringed when I dropped my feet on the cold floors, but stood up anyway and wandered over to the bathroom.

I looked at myself in the mirror – not that I had a choice, the fucking thing is right in front of me – and it’s like looking at a zombie. I don’t even look real. The glazed brown eyes staring back at me don’t look like my own, and my skin’s so fucking pale…How did that even happen? Then again, I guess I gave up my Italian tan a while ago.

I hovered near the mirror for a few minutes, just staring and staring, hoping for some reason the reflection would snap at me and say, _“Damn it, Lovino! Get your lazy ass to class and fucking draw!”_

But it didn’t. And the longer I stood there, the weaker my drive became for me to even go to school. Not that I even wanted to go in the first place, but if it’ll keep everyone off my case, I guess it’s worth it. Antonio’s exactly the type who’d push in if I started drifting away unfortunately.

So I blinked one last time at my reflection and go to my tall glass cabinet. My body is on autopilot, and it’s as though I don’t feel or realize the movements I’m making. All I know is I’m going back to old habits, and I’m searching for my blades.

I opened the cabinet and searched for my little box of wound closures. Inside of that is the small container of double-edged blades: all neatly stacked on top of each other, ready to be slid out. I keep at least one in my wallet as a rule, but just in case I lose those or the wallet or whatever, I keep the rest of them here.

I hold the container in my hand, and mindlessly slide a fresh blade from the pile.

But when I grasp the blade between my fingers I stop. I’m not sure why, but I can’t bring myself to do anything with the blade except stare at it.

_Ding_

My body twitched involuntarily at the noise. That’s my phone. It’s either Feli or Antonio. Is it already nine o’ clock? Is that possible?

I placed the stack of extra blades back in the box and drop it in the cabinet, then, with the small blade still between my fingers, I shuffled into my room and towards my phone.

With my free hand I picked it up and slid my thumb across the screen to unlock it.

Damn Antonio (SENT 8:32am): _Loooovvviiiiiiiii :D :D :D :D  
_ Damn Antonio (SENT 8:32am): _guess what?? well, 1st of all, i’m meeting with the head of the studio art department 2day to talk about the reception budget!! isn’t that exciting??  
_ Damn Antonio (SENT 8:33am): _i also made some yummy tacos for lunch P: and there’s extras for uuuuuu mi amor!!_

My heart tightened, but my fingers wouldn’t let go of the blade. I just…I’m still so – I just don’t know if I can be with people at all today.

So with the slightest frown changing my otherwise dead face, I wandered back to the bathroom.

I followed my usual process and closed the bathroom door, locked it, and sat down on the marble floor next to the bathtub. I held the blade up and looked at it, then pushed my boxers slightly up my thigh and pressed it against the skin.

_Ding_

Huh? I don’t remember – what the fuck? I glanced down at my other hand and saw that, for whatever reason, I was still holding my phone. And…yep, Antonio was still texting.

Damn Antonio (SENT 8:36am): _Looooviiiiii get here soon :D i’m lonely here without uuu_

I stared dumbly at the screen for a few moments, then without thinking I clicked on Antonio’s contact number and pressed call.

_Ring_

_Ring_

“Lovi! _Hola mi_ – I mean…hi! How are you doing?”

How am I doing? How _am_ I doing? I don’t even know anymore.

“Lovi? Are you there?”

“Um…yeah,” I mumbled into the phone and glanced at my blade.

I was so fucking close! Why the hell did I press the goddamn dial button? Why did I even have my phone? Damn it, I’m so stupid, I –

“Are you okay? You didn’t get lost, did you?”

I breathed a short laugh, and found myself smirking slightly.

“As if,” I managed and closed my eyes.

_What am I doing?_

“Haha, okay. Are you on your way now then?”

Uh. Do I lie or tell the truth? Well, I guess I can’t tell the whole fucking truth, can I?

_Hey Antonio, I can’t seem to find a reason to move today and I was about cut the emptiness out of myself, but if you can think of a reason not to, just go ahead and try it._

“Lovi? Lovi, are you okay?”

My body froze when I detected the hint of concern in his voice. Get it together Lovino. This is just causing problems.

“I…um. I can’t decide whether I should go to school…or not.”

“Oh, are you feeling sick?”

That would be an improvement.

“No, I’m just tired…and stuff,” I muttered pathetically into the phone and squeezed the blade between my fingers.

It’s fucked up if I do this when I’m talking on the phone with him, isn’t it?

“Aww, Lovi. Do you need an incentive to come? I thought the tacos would be enough, haha!” Antonio continued laughing carelessly into the phone, and my lips turned up again.

“Try to think of another one bastard,” I said despite myself.

Do I want a reason not to cut? I thought I was always looking for an excuse.

“Hm, a reason that’s better than tacos. That’s tough…” Antonio drawled playfully. “Well, there’re your wonderful peers that are waiting to see your smiling face!”

“Should I just hang up the phone?” I asked with a small smile.

“No, no! I have more…Well, you can start working on your amazing pieces for the art shows! I know you secretly want to show up Alfred,” Antonio added the last part in a whisper and I could practically hear his grin through the phone.

“I’m not sure if I can,” I admitted.

“ _Qué_? You can’t be serious. You’re both so single-minded! I think you two care more about art than anything else. It’s pretty amazing.”

“I don’t need a pep talk,” I replied, then closed my eyes in frustration.

 _Why_ did I say that?

“Aww, are you pouting? Come on Lovino, I know you want to be complimented!”

Is he calling me attention seeking? The bastard.

“The fuck I do.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean it in a bad way! I just meant you’re the type who’s afraid to trust your own opinion. Which you really should Lovi, because you’re so good.”

I felt my face heat up. I don’t understand if this guy’s dumb or smart sometimes.

“Sh-shut up,” I stuttered into the phone.

“Haha, I bet you’re as red as a tomato right now! Does that mean you’re coming to school now?”

“No,” I said defiantly, and pressed my lips together.

“No? Oh, well then I guess you leave me no choice. I’ll have to give you my ultra-secret-special incentive,” Antonio paused for dramatic effect.

“Just fucking say it already!” I yelled into the phone, and heard Antonio chuckle briefly.

“If you come, I’ll make out with you after each class,” Antonio whispered into the phone, and I swear if my face wasn’t already red before, it was fucking on fire now.

I dropped the blade immediately and pressed the back of that hand to one cheek, and then the other.

“You – how – damn it – you fucking – argh!” I groaned in embarrassment and clenched my fist when I heard Antonio laughing on the other end.

“Does that mean you’re coming?” Antonio asked, and I swear there was the slightest hint of seduction in his voice.

“No,” I replied as I was already standing up.

“No?”

“Damn it. I’m coming, but it’s not because of what you said, _bastardo_! So don’t get any ideas!” I shouted and completely ignored my stuttering heart.

“Haha, alright. I’ll just have to win you over once you get here,” Antonio said, and this time I’m positive his voice sounded seductive.

“Whatever,” I snapped at the phone and ended the call.

I stared at the screen for another second and then looked up. Well, my face is still an annoying shade of red, but at least I look alive again.

Then I glanced down at the silver blade, glinting on the marble floors. Slowly I pick it up, and hold it between my fingers.

I was so close, wasn’t I?

I sighed, and carried it back to the cabinet, and placed it delicately underneath one of the bandages.

With another sigh, I started walking towards my cabinet to get dressed, rubbing my wrist as I went along, and tried to stamp out the remaining urges tingling through my body.

It’s going to be a long fucking day.

 

~

 

The first class wasn’t so bad, I guess.

Feli did show up at some point, looking particularly starry-eyed which made me want to vomit in disgust. I guess it’s safe to say he and the potato-bastard are going out now.

Antonio seemed like he wanted to talk to me, but he kept getting pulled away by Alfred to talk about the receptions and whatever, so that’s what he spent most of his time doing. But honestly, I was relieved.

He helped a lot strangely, but I’m still sort of in a daze, and not feeling up to more than Feli’s stupid company. So I was fine with sitting by myself and drawing for the entire class. I ended up drawing Antonio’s fucking face again, but at least it looked pretty good.

Five minutes before class was supposed to end Antonio started glancing back at my table every other second, and it almost made me want to grab him by the collar and yell, _“Just do whatever the hell you want! You’re the fucking teacher! Not Alfred!”_

But he was also having a…relationship (can I use that word?) with a student, so I guess I shouldn’t be pushing him to act anymore recklessly than he already is.

“Lovi!” Antonio called, and I looked up from my drawing to see Antonio skipping hurriedly towards my table. He stopped in front of it and leaned really close to me, “Follow me, okay?”

I blushed, and my eyes immediately darted around the room to make sure no one else saw how insanely obvious that was. Luckily, everybody already left.

“What are you doing?” I asked through clenched teeth, and wished my cheeks weren’t getting hotter by the second.

Antonio smiled mischievously, and said, “Just come with me, okay?”

“Damn it,” I mumbled and slowly slid my chair out from my desk.

Antonio started pulling me along by my arm, but I yanked it away from him and walked side by side with him.

“Where are we going?” I asked, and cursed myself for even agreeing to come here in the first place.

“To a secret place!” Antonio said, and I rolled my eyes.

Antonio stopped at a door, and I backtracked a few steps.

Oh, this is –

“This is one of the studios reserved for students to work on their work independently,” Antonio explained as he opened the door.

I tentatively walked inside, and tried desperately to ignore the overwhelming feel of déjà vu. I was just in here a few days ago.

As I was distracted with looking around the empty, dark room, I heard Antonio shut the door, and suddenly his hands grabbed my waist.

I jumped and turned around yelling, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing scaring the shit out of my lik –”

Antonio didn’t let me finish before he pressed his lips passionately to mine. I suddenly remembered what it felt like to be kissed by him, and my body instinctively relaxed into his arms.

Even when he tries to be stupidly macho and fucking seductive like his French friend, I can feel Antonio’s ridiculous sweetness when he kisses me – like the way his lips are always smiling, and how they taste as girly and fruity as those damn lotions he likes.

When Antonio started leaning further into the kiss however, and I was somehow being backed against a table, I pushed him back and took a quick breath. We cannot do this in the middle of a fucking classroom.

Antonio stared at me wide eyed, and I caught the soft light that was streaming through the blinds, sparkling in his curious green eyes.

“D-did I do something wr –” Antonio started hesitantly.

“Shut up,” I interrupted him and grabbed his hand.

I led him across the studio and to the storage room, and opened the door. I flicked on the lights and walked in and I heard Antonio follow me in quietly.

“Oh, I didn’t even know about this place,” Antonio said offhandedly and I looked to the side.

Then he took a step closer and wrapped his arms around my waist again.

“So,” He began with a smile and kissed the side of my face. “Are you feeling any better now?”

My eyes widened and I echoed, “Huh?”

Antonio pulled back to look at me, and his eyes seemed so soft and so…understanding.

“You weren’t yourself today. I could tell already on the phone,” Antonio said and one of his hands moved up to caress the side of my face.

“Whatever,” I muttered and looked away.

Antonio quickly grasped my chin though and turned my face back towards him.

“You can tell me when something’s wrong you know. I can help,” He smiled tenderly, and I felt my throat tighten.

I – I wish I could tell him. A part of me desperately wants to. I want to tell him how much of a wreck I am, and half the time I’m too scared to leave the apartment. I want to tell him how anxious I get around people, and how angry I get at myself when I always say the wrong thing. I want to tell him that I either feel too much or not at all, and how much it’s driving me insane. I…I even want to tell him that sometimes I wonder whether there’s a point to quitting cutting at all.

My eyes sting slightly and I grasped the back of Antonio’s neck to pull him down to my lips. I kissed him gently and sort of apologetically, because even though I want to tell him everything, I just…can’t.

Antonio seemed to understand somehow though, because he kissed me back just as gingerly, and intertwined his fingers in my hair.

After a few moments, I relaxed again, and was suddenly less guilty as I was impatient, and I tugged him closer so he would start putting more effort damn it. Antonio smiled slightly, and moved his hands from my hair to my waist again, and kissed me deeper. That surprised me, but that didn’t stop Antonio from sucking lightly on my lip before pressing his lips to mine again, and I felt myself growing breathless and girlier by the moment damn it.

Then we heard the door to the studio open and we both froze. Antonio pulled back slightly and stared at me wordlessly. I couldn’t think of anything to say either, so I just looked at him as I was trying to catch my breath.

The footsteps started to echo as the person was walking around the room and Antonio and I both started to panic now.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” I ranted under my breath and ran my hand through my hair.

Antonio took a step closer to me and whispered hurriedly, “Lovi, what should we do?”

“What should we do? You’re the fucking adult here! Shouldn’t you know?” I whisper back, just as quietly.

“Ay, but I…” Antonio trailed off as he looked at the closed door behind him.

I sighed and said, “Look – how about you walk out there with,” I grabbed a roll of duct tape and hand it to him. “Walk out there with this and just talk the person out of the room. Then I’ll sneak out afterwards and meet you back at the classroom.”

Antonio looked at the tape I gave him and nodded.

“Okay Lovi, I’ll try my best,” He said too seriously and moved towards the door. He paused and looked over his shoulder, “If anything happens to me _querido_ , just know that I’ll always love you and –”

“Just go!” I interrupted in a harsh whisper.

Antonio smirked slightly, then opened the door.

I held my breath and waited.

“Oh, hello Dr. Oxenstierna! What are you doing here?” Antonio asked in an awkward laugh, and I heard his footsteps echo further away from the room.

Did he say Oxenstierna? Fuck! Isn’t that the name of the head of the studio art department? God fucking damn it! Lovino, which did you follow him? You’re just going to get him in a crapton of trouble, damn it!

“H’llo Toni. I w’s looking for you act’lly. Wh’t were you d’ing in there?” I heard the guy ask, and I felt myself shrink slowly to the ground in intimidation.

Damn, he sounds scary.

“I was just getting some duct tape! I ran out at my desk!” Antonio replied smoothly, and his footsteps stopped moving.

“Ah, w’ll do you want to talk ab’t the budget here, or in y’r studio?” He asked blandly.

“How about my studio! I have a class starting soon, but you can hang out while I give out the instructions for the day.”

Huh. Antonio’s actually a pretty convincing liar. Well, I guess he’s not actually lying, he’s…redirecting. Still though, he’s as persuasive as Feli.

“Th’t’s fine,” Dr. Oxenstierna said, and I breathed out as I heard him walk out of the room with Antonio.

I sat on the floor for a few minutes just thinking, and sighed in relief that I didn’t make Antonio lose his job.

Then my mind wandered again, and I thought of the last time I was in this room. I guess I can’t cut here anymore. It wouldn’t feel…okay.

I give them a few more minutes, and by now I’m probably going to be on the verge of late, but then, so is Feli everyday, so I can do it this time damn it. But even though I tell myself that, I find myself standing up and tentatively walking out of the storage room.

I walked across the empty studio as I fixed my hair with my hands and made sure I didn’t look suspicious or anything.

When I got to Antonio’s studio door however, I stopped and clenched my jaw, then quickly stormed through the entrance with my gaze focused solely and intently on the floor.

“L’vino.”

I stopped mid-step and slowly turned around.

Dr. Oxenstierna was sitting calmly near Antonio’s desk, and looking over his glasses with an intense gaze.

Shit, he’s scary!

“Y’re the one all the t’chers have b’n talk’ng ‘bout,” He said monotone, and my eyes darted to Antonio nervously.

He just offered me a reassuringly smile, and I looked back at the tall, blonde guy a bit more confidently.

“I-I guess,” I replied, and dug my nails into my palm in frustration. Why the fuck did I stutter?

“I hear y’re pr’tty g’d,” He said, but I didn’t blush for once because I was too scared and confused.

“Oh,” Was all I managed, and I silently cursed myself for being such a coward.

He paused for a moment to stare at me, and in that moment I was positive, I was a hundred fucking percent sure, he knew about Antonio and I.

But then he blinked and asked, “So are you g’ing t’ be in the show too?”

“Uh…I-I think so,” I muttered, and looked back at Antonio who seemed annoyingly amused by the whole thing and was grinning his ridiculous, smug grin at me.

“G’d,” Dr. Oxenstierna replied and said nothing else.

I hovered near their desk for a few more seconds, but all they did was stare at me blankly, so I just turned on my heel and rushed towards the safety of my lonely desk.

As the class went on, the tall guy hung out and talked with Antonio. Occasionally, I saw him look around the room, and I swear whenever his eyes passed by in my direction they were burning through me. He’s so fucking scary.

But nothing other than that happened, and by the end I wondered if it was just my rollercoaster of a day that was screwing with me.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Argh. Another bad place to end.
> 
> I'm sorry guys! But I'm traveling today, and I was afraid that if I didn't update now, I might not get a chance for a little while.
> 
> Having said that, I'm going to try my very best to update soon! To those who kudosed/commented/etc, I can't say how much it means to me that you care about the story :D It really keeps me going!
> 
> So with that, thanks so much for reading! Comments are welcome!
> 
> Til next time! :D


	10. The Red Studio, Henri Matisse, 1911. Oil on Canvas.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the day just keeps going up and down, doesn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, strangely I have nothing much to say this time.
> 
> Just a quick note, we're picking off on the same day as last chapter (Friday). Time is truly very vague in this fic, isn't it?
> 
> TW for references of self-harm, and if you don't like people throwing up I guess just be aware that it's referenced? My best friend can't read/watch anything that has throw up even mentioned so I though I should at least give out a warning for those of you with that same phobia-thing.

(Lovino’s POV)

 

 

 

Damn Antonio (SENT 1:15 pm): _so Loviii u know those tacos_

Me (SENT 1:15 pm): **Yeah what about them  
** Me (SENT 1:15 pm): **And btw where are you? Me and the rest of the fucking class are just staring at a bucket of flowers**  

Damn Antonio (SENT 1:16 pm): _si well i think i may have a small case of food poisoning haha :’D_

Me (SENT 1:16 pm): **Haha??**

Damn Antonio (SENT 1:17 pm): _i mean it’s kind of funny, no? i did make those tacos myself_

Me (SENT 1:17 pm): **Remind me to never eat your cooking again**

Damn Antonio (SENT 1:17 pm): _awww Lovi that’s not fair! u like my cooking!_

Me (SENT 1:17 pm): **That was before I knew I was risking my health every time I ate your food**

Damn Antonio (SENT 1:18 pm): _Loviii :( that’s so mean_

Me (SENT 1:18 pm): **Is it? Have you thrown up?**

Damn Antonio (SENT 1:19 pm): _uummm maybe…_

Me (SENT 1:19 pm): **Right. Exactly my point  
** Me (SENT 1:21 pm): **Why the fuck is Alfred here**

Damn Antonio (SENT 1:21 pm): _oh yeah he’s filling in for me!_

Me (SENT 1:22 pm): **God damn it Antonio**

 

~

 

“Vee~ What did Toni say?”

I looked up from my phone to Feli’s curious face and frowned.

“He fucking poisoned himself from his own tacos,” I said and slammed the phone onto the table. “God, how much of an airhead can he be? I bet he used expired meat or something because he was trying to save money.”

Feli giggled and replied, “Heehee, that’s so cute though!”

“Cute my ass! He’s supposed to be a fucking adult! Now he’s at home sick and throwing up everywhere,” I yelled back and turned towards Alfred who apparently started talking. “Wait – did he say anything?"

“ _Si_ , he said that we’re supposed to be sketching the flowers.”

“Was that it? I thought I heard his annoying voice going on forever,” I rolled my eyes and picked up my pencil.

“Um, I think that was it,” Feli hummed, but I knew that meant he wasn’t listening either, damn it.

“Whatever, it probably wasn’t important anyway,” I muttered and began drawing in my sketchbook.

Feli didn’t respond to that and kept sipping his Frappuccino infuriatingly loud. Slowly, he opened his sketchbook too and when he found a page he dropped the book back onto the table and stared at it. From the corner of my eye I watched him rest his chin in his palm and tap the eraser of his pencil against the paper as he stared blankly into space.

“Are you going to draw or what?” I asked and looked up at Feli expectantly.

Feli glanced at me and breathed a small sigh; then he pressed his pencil to the paper and began sketching.

I was already making headway into the flowers, but I could tell Feli was drawing at a ridiculously slow pace. Was he bored or something?

Then all of a sudden I heard his pencil drop to the paper and I looked up.

“Wha –”

“So are you going to visit Toni after school?” Feli crossed his arms across the table and smiled.

“Why the fuck would I do that?” I replied and looked back at my sketch.

“Aw, because he’s sick! Don’t you want to take care of him? You’re so good at taking care of me,” Feli said, and I glanced back up.

“I take care of you because I’m your brother and you’re weak. Antonio’s an adult who poisoned himself on his own fucking tacos. He doesn’t deserve my special treatment,” I deadpanned and didn’t flinch under Feli’s broad smile.

“I bet he would want you to take care of him,” Feli said and then looked away dreamily. “It’s so nice when your lover takes care of you. I don’t think I’d ever been as happy as when Ludwig visited me.”

“Nice to know you appreciated my help,” I replied and pursed my lips.

Feliciano laughed carelessly and said, “Aw, Lovi don’t pout! I love it when you take care of me too! But that was the first time Luddy had ever shown he cared about me, so it was very special.”

“Right, and then you spent the rest of the day eating strudel and cooking other random bakery shit that came to mind.”

“Hey! Ludwig’s an excellent cook! I really wanted him to teach me!” Feli exclaimed somewhat seriously, but after a second went back to grinning ridiculously and batting his stupid lashes. “And then after he taught me how to cook desserts I taught him how to cook pasta and lasagna, and pizza. Vee~ It was so romantic!”

“He showed you his so you showed him yours, huh?” I smirked slightly at my own joke but winced when Feli smacked my shoulder. “Hey!”

“Don’t be mean to Luddy! You know how nice of a person he is,” Feliciano argued.

“Whatever,” I mumbled and continued drawing.

Feliciano was quiet for another moment but he didn’t pick up his pencil.

Then I caught his body jerk again in excitement and he asked, “Oh yeah, I never got to ask you this after your date because I’ve been so busy with Luddy…” Feli paused to lean in and smile mischievously. “How far did you go with Antonio?”

My face heated up a hundred degrees and I gripped the pencil tight with embarrassment.

“W-what the fuck are you talking about?” I stuttered and tried to glare angrily at Feli, but I was too fucking shocked and freaked out to make it seem scary.

“Aw, you can tell me! I know all about this stuff! I’ve been waiting so long for you to find someone, and now you finally have so we can talk about kind of thing!” Feli said and looked at me eagerly.

“What kind of _thing_ ,” I asked dumbly, though I knew exactly what he meant.

“Sex of course!” Feli exclaimed and made a dramatic wave with his hand.

“Sh-shut up! We’re in a fucking classroom! We can’t talk about that kind of thing here!” I whispered harshly and scanned the room to see if anyone was looking in our directed.

Fortunately most of them seemed a bit distracted by Alfred; but they usually are for some stupid reason.

“Aw, come on! We’re _fratelli_! You can tell me!” Feli whined playfully and tugged at my free arm. “I’ll tell you about me and Ludwig if you tell me about you and Antonio!"

“Fuck no! I don’t want to know anything about that, you hear me,” I replied seriously despite my red-hot face.

Feli gaped for a moment before smiling and saying, “Alright Lovi, but if you don’t want to hear about my sex life then you have to tell me about yours.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” I furrowed my eyebrows and clenched my fist.

“Doesn’t matter,” Feli smiled and leaned forward even more in anticipation.

I glared at him for another full thirty seconds before finally muttering, “Fine.”

“Yes!” Feli said and fist-pumped.

I rolled my eyes as my face grew shades darker.

“Y-you’re going to be disappointed though, because we haven’t done anything.”

“What do you mean anything?” Feli raised an eyebrow and stared at me dubiously.

“W-well I mean, we’ve only…k-kissed, you know,” I clarified awkwardly and cursed at myself for being such a fucking girl about this.

Why am I so embarrassed about telling Feli this? It’s not a big deal! Feli told me about the first time he had sex without stuttering once. He talked for a full hour about it while I tried to block him out with my music and headphones.

“ _Cosa_? That’s all? But you slept with him – twice!” Feli yelled and once again I stared frantically around the room to see if anyone heard him.

“God, will you keep it down?” I snapped back and Feli sat a little further back in his chair. Then I took a deep breath and mustered the courage to clarify with an increasingly flushed face, “We slept together, b-but not in the _slept together_ way. We just ended up falling asleep next to each other both times. Although the first time it’s not as if I had a choice,” I mumbled the last part in slight annoyance.

“Aw, really?” Feli asked and frowned at the traces of disappointment in his voice.

“ _Yes, really_ ,” I replied harshly and stared down at my sketchbook.

“You haven’t even gotten his shirt off?” Feli winked and leaned forward again.

“Damn it, no I haven’t!” I said, and clenched my jaw. “It’s not as if I would ever do that anyway,” I added and looked to the side.

Feli didn’t say anything to that, and for some odd reason I think he knew what I really meant by that.

“He doesn’t know yet, does he?” Feli asked, and I heard his voice drop considerably.

I didn’t bother looking at him. I didn’t need to, I know what Feli looks like when he talks about my problems.

“No,” Was all I said, and then I turned towards Feli and gave him a level stare. “And he’s not going to find out, alright?”

Feli’s eyes looked at me sadly for a moment before he tried to be serious.

“He’s going to find out at some point,” Feli said.

I regarded his strangely quiet, sensitive face for a moment before I looked back at my sketchbook.

“Not if I can help it,” I muttered and began sketching again.

Feli didn’t say anything, but I could feel his eyes watching me as I drew for a good few minutes, until finally – for the first time this fucking class – Feli started moving his damn pencil.

I breathed a sigh of relief when he did, because that meant he wasn’t going to ask how I was doing or anything. It always stresses me out when he does. He knows I’m trying to quit and everything, and I guess as far as he knows I have quit, because the last time he saw anything was six months ago.

But what Feli doesn’t know is how hard it is to quit. And how much I just don’t want to. I wanted to quit for Feli’s sake because I couldn’t take how much it hurt him and how much he cried when he found out, but when he leaves with whatever boyfriend he has at the time – this month being the potato bastard – I’m all alone with my stupid destructive self and it just doesn’t seem fucking worth it to quit.

And then I met Antonio…

I don’t know what I’m doing. Feli’s right, there’s no way Antonio and I can go on without him finding out. It’s going to happen if we keep dating. I don’t care how fucking patient or naïve he is, at some point he’s going to want to go further then a stupid kiss and then I’m going to be in trouble.

Because I don’t think I could handle seeing his expression too. Feli’s my brother so that’s one thing, but Antonio was the first person – the first stranger – to have been so encouraging, to just believe in me at all. Especially when I’m sitting right next to Feliciano. And I just – I…care about him. I don’t want him to know. I can’t handle him being disappointed in me.

If he knew how disgusting, how _broken_ I was, he wouldn’t love me anymore. He would just pity me.

I’d rather keep pushing him away then let that happen.

 

~

 

By the time class had finally ended, Feli seemed like he had cheered back up. Once he finished his sketch in lightning speed – and it looked like shit, I have to say – he texted what I can only assume was his potato bastard of a boyfriend for the rest of class, and I had to turn my music up pretty loud to tune out his annoying giggling.

But happy, stupid Feli was better than sad Feli, so secretly I was very content.

“Hey guys!” Alfred called and both Feli and I turned in his direction.

Feli was in the middle of packing up and ditching the rest of his classes, but he stopped buckling his messenger bag and smiled at Alfred.

“ _Ciao_ Alfred! What is it?” Feli replied charmingly and I rolled my eyes.

“Aren’t you guys coming to the reception meeting I talked about?” Alfred asked and looked at me expectantly.

“What meeting?” I narrowed my eyes and glanced back at Feli.

“I mentioned it at the beginning of class! Antonio, Dr. Oxenstierna and I talked about it at lunch, and we came up with some great ideas so I thought I’d gather the guys participating in the show and have a little group sesh!” Antonio flashed a grin.

“How many people are doing this?” I asked as I started putting my stuff away anyway.

“Um, well I think it’s about fifteen? You should know all of them. They’re all from your classes,” Alfred said as he looked up thoughtfully.

“Vee~ Is it a short meeting? Because we have another class after this,” Feli said as he quickly checked his phone.

“Oh, yeah, well since Toni’s sick, he decided to cancel that,” Alfred replied easily and laughed. “I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t eat his food, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said with a heavy sigh and slung the strap of my messenger bag over my shoulder. “Alright where’s this damn meeting?”

“Oh, it’s in that studio place reserved for the students’ independent work, ya know?” Alfred replied casually and started leading us out of the studio.

“What the fuck?” I muttered under my breath.

Seriously, why is it that all of a sudden that room is the new hot spot? I swear no one knew about that place just a few days ago, God damn it.

Feli skipped ahead towards Alfred, and I overheard some of their boring gossip as they wandered towards the workroom. For some stupid, fucking reason, they decided to talk about Antonio and I when I’m standing right behind them, but they didn’t say anything outrageously embarrassing so I let them slide with a few curse words.

When we arrived at the classroom, Alfred opened the door and let us go in first.

“Vee~ Oh, _ciao_ Emma! _Ciao_ Emil! _Ciao_ Kiku!” Feli called as he ran over to their table excitedly.

I hovered near the doorway for a few moments deciding whether I should follow him or not, but once they started laughing I sighed and walked over to an empty table on the other side.

More people started trickling in as the minutes went by and they all gathered at the stupid tables. I had already plugged my headphones in and was trying to ignore everyone as I listened to my music, but I did notice that Gupta sat down at my table.

He didn’t say a word, and just laid down his backpack on the floor as he stared straight ahead at Alfred.

“Hey,” I said, and Gupta slowly turned his amber eyes towards me. “What are you doing here? I thought you were an architect?”

“Can’t an architect be here?” Gupta replied and stared at me evenly.

I pressed my lips together as I tried to figure him out, but in the end I just smirked slightly and turned my music back on.

Gupta didn’t say anything else and was content just watching everyone else.

At least he’s quiet.

“Alright guys, it looks like everyone’s here so let’s get started!” Alfred declared and put his hands on his hips. “So as you guys know, I had the awesome idea of starting a series of art shows this semester, so everyone here can show off their awesome talent.”

I rolled my eyes and Alfred started walking around the room.

“So Toni and I talked about it, and we thought we should have a different theme for each week. The first week will be genre paintings, the second week will be landscapes, the third week will be portraits, and for the fourth, final week we’ll do our best work. Does that sound good with everyone?” Alfred looked around, and I saw Feli raise his hand.

“Vee~ When is the first art show?” Feli asked with a smile.

“Two weeks! And the rest of the art shows will follow once a week,” Alfred replied and then started moving back towards his pile of random stuff. “Toni and I also gathered up some notes for each of y’all’s art. We have like comments and critiques and stuff, just so you have something to help ya get started. Oh, and we also made a list of artists for each of y’all that we thought would help your art out a lot,” Alfred said and he picked up a stack of disorganized papers. “Once you get your papers, feel free to go. When Antonio’s spick and span again we’ll have another meeting to check in and stuff.”

I was in the back of the room again, so I knew that Gupta and I would be last. For a few minutes I watched Alfred laugh and make his way around the room passing out random sheets of paper. When he reached Feli, I had a desperate moment where I needed to know what Antonio wrote about him; but I knew there was no way I would risk jumping into their stupid, happy conversation, so I just shuffled through my music.

“Ah, Gupta,” Alfred said, and I pulled out one of my headphones to look up at them. “Okay, here’s a paper with our comments, and then here’s a list of architects I think you’d like. I’m sure you’ve already studied most of them, but maybe just takin’ another quick look would inspire you,” Alfred pointed to the list and I caught a few of the names like “Gaudi,” “Zaha Hadid” and “Le Corbusier.”

Gupta stared at his papers for a second, gave Alfred a nod, and followed everyone else who was shuffling out of the room.

“Lovino!” Alfred exclaimed and slid into Gupta’s old seat. “How’s it goin’ mini-me?”

My eyes widened before narrowing in fury.

“ _Mini-me_? What the fuck are you talking about?” I snapped and immediately yanked my other headphone out and put my phone back on the table.

“Oh, nothin’ much,” Alfred grinned and his blue eyes sparkled. “I was just sayin’ we’re alike, is all.”

“As if.”

“Haha, don’t get your panties in a bunch! I didn’t mean like personalities and stuff. I meant just as artists, we have a lot in common.”

“No,” I replied and glared at him.

Alfred kept flashing a smile and didn’t seem at all intimidated.

“Well, whatever. You’ll see what I mean eventually,” Alfred said and slid one of the papers to me. “So here’s the paper with our comments. Antonio had a lot to say about you,” Alfred paused to wink at me, and I flipped him off. Unfortunately, that just seemed to make him laugh more, and he continued, “And here’s a list of artists that I think would help you out.”

I turned the comments page over, because there was no way in hell I was looking at that with the dumb, nosy American here. So instead I glanced down at the artists. As I read through them over, however, I frowned.

“What is this?” I asked as I finished the list.

“I just told you, it’s a list of arti –”

“No, I know what it is. But why’d you give me these people? Cezanne, Renoir, Degas, Matisse… _Klee_? _Gauguin_? Who do you think I am?” I asked and slammed the page back on the table.

“Aw, don’t get mad Lovino. I’m telling you, we’re a lot alike. When I was your age, I was all into hyper realism and all of the details too,” Alfred said and looked down at the list. “But I think – and this is mainly for your painting – you need to learn to loosen up a bit. I can also tell you don’t really like to use colors, which is why I chose some of the Impressionist and Post-impressionists.” 

“It’s not as if I don’t like colors, I just like pencil and charcoal a hell of a lot more,” I clarified and crossed my arms.

“Well, I think that’s just ‘cuz your comfortable with it. You need to try something a bit out of your element. Especially since I think you’d be a hell of a modern painter with all of your crazy emotions!” Alfred chuckled and I flushed a bit in embarrassment.

“I am _not_ crazy…or emotional,” I replied carefully, and subconsciously rubbed the scars on my wrist.

“Hey, I’m not saying it’s a bad thing! All artists are at least a little bit crazy; the trick is take all of that chaotic energy and make something super cool from it,” Alfred gave me a thumb’s up and I grimaced. “Jackson Pollock turned all of his anger and alcoholism into giant drip paintings, ya know!”

“I know,” I deadpanned.

“And Frida Kahlo turned all of her pain and loneliness into those rad, Surrealist self-portraits!”

“I get it.”

“Well, I’m just saying you can do the same thing! I don’t know what goes on in that crazy, Italian brain of yours, but you just need to let it out on canvas and it’ll be totally amazing,” Alfred said as he leaned over the table.

I looked back at the list and sighed.

“Frida Kahlo and Pollock are on here too,” I replied and heard Alfred laugh.

“Course they are! I said you could learn from ‘em,” Alfred said as he started getting up. “Well I gotta go paint like a madman! Hit me up if you need help, mini-me!”

“I’m not your fucking mini-me!” I shouted back at him and slammed my fist against the table.

Alfred laughed as he walked out the door, but he didn’t bother saying anything in return.

Now that I was alone in the studio I glanced down at the turned over comments page.

Well, I guess I can look it over now.

  
~

 

Lovino/ _mi querido_ ,

You obviously have so much talent and passion for art, anyone can see it after one look at your work. I know you must have drawn for hours at a time, consistently all throughout your childhood to become so good at capturing detail, shadows, and realism, but I think your art would benefit from loosening up a bit. Alfred and I agree that you’re not the type of artist that should be so controlled and calculated in their art, especially since you have so much wonderful emotion and passion to show us.

I know you may not want to at first, but try painting – even in watercolor – just more how you _feel_ about something, and less how you see it.

I still think you’re one of the most talented artists to have ever stepped into my classroom (don’t tell Feli :D), and I think as you go on you’ll become an even greater artist.

Your boyfriend _/Su amante_ ,

Antonio

 

~

 

…

That idiot.

 

~

 

(Antonio’s POV)

 

 

 

 _Knock, knock, knock_  

 _Ay_ , I know someone’s knocking at the door, but I’m so tired. I don’t want to move. Maybe if I just stay quiet, they’ll go away.

_KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK_

I turned over and covered my ears with my hands.

“Antonio! I know you’re in here! Get up and let me in!”

Oh! That’s Lovino’s voice!

After hearing his voice somehow, I managed to stumble off of my couch – though I almost crashed into the coffee table – and wobbled over to the door.

I didn’t bother looking through the peephole, and went ahead and unlocked and opened the door.

I saw Lovi standing with his arms crossed and his familiar olive-green messenger bag slung over his shoulder; his golden eyes were sparkling mysteriously again. He must have come straight from school.

Although I felt like I might throw up any moment I tried to act happy and said, “Lovi! How are y –”

“Shut up. You look like shit,” He interrupted and pushed me back into my apartment.

Then he grabbed my hand and led me back to the couch.

“Lay down,” He ordered, and dropped my hand.

“Whatever you say Dr. Vargas,” I joked and did as I was told.

I thought Lovi would hit me or say some curse word, but as soon as I was back in the position I was in before I felt Lovi’s cool hand pressing against my forehead.

“Oh, I’m not really sick Lovi. It’s just food poisoning, I promise,” I answered with a weak laugh.

“No, you have a fever,” Lovi said, and I saw him retreat his hand with a frown. “Do you have a thermometer around?”

“Um, maybe I have one somewhere in my bathroom?” I replied a bit unsure.

“Alright, just stay here and don’t throw up,” Lovi said, and walked briskly through my apartment.

“Don’t worry, I think I already threw up everything I ate,” I chuckled and dropped my arm weakly over my eyes.

A few minutes later I heard Lovi’s quiet footsteps pat on the wooden floors, and I knew he was next to me again.

His cold, slender fingers wrapped around my arm and gently pulled it down, so I was looking at Lovi’s warm brown eyes again.

“Open your mouth, bastard,” He said, and I did.

Then Lovi carefully slid the thermometer under my tongue and let go.

I tried to ask him something while the thermometer was still in my mouth, but Lovi interrupted me again and yelled, “ _Idiota_ , don’t talk or else it won’t give an accurate reading.”

_Beep_

Lovi retrieved the thermometer and stared at it.

“One hundred and one. You didn’t poison yourself, you have the fucking flu,” Lovi rolled his eyes and put the thermometer down on the coffee table. “What were you trying to say before anyway?”

“Oh, I was just wondering why your hands are always so cold,” I replied honestly, and watched Lovi as he wandered over to the loveseat to pick up the blanket folded over the armrest.

“I dunno, maybe I’m just cold-blooded,” Lovi answered blandly and unfolded the blanket over me. He pulled it over me, but I must have smiled too quick, because I watched his face flush a deep red, and he immediately stepped away. “Y-you can tuck yourself in you bastard.”

“Aw, Lovi’s so sweet! He’s taking care of me!” I sing-songed, before I coughed a few times.

“Oh, shut up. You’re disgusting,” He snapped, but I saw his face redden even more.

“Isn’t why you came by though? To take care of your handsome, Latin lover,” I smiled seductively, but Lovino ran away to the kitchen before I could see his cute, red face. “Hey! Lovi, where are you going?”

“Y-you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, bastard! I’m just here to yell at you for those stupid pieces of paper Alfred gave me,” Lovi shouted, and I heard he clanking of glasses.

He came back with a glass of water and an ibuprofen and offered them to me, without looking at me in the eye. So cute!

I took them anyway and gulped down the little pill. Then something occurred to me and I said, “Oh, Lovi! I’m going to get you sick, aren’t I? Because I kissed you this morning.”

Lovi jumped slightly and his blush darkened again.

“D-don’t worry about it, bastard. I don’t get sick,” He replied and curled up on the loveseat next to me.

“What, like ever?” I asked and Lovi shook his head. “Wow, you’re just like Alfred,” I commented and looked back up at the ceiling.

“I am not like that stupid, fucking American!” Lovi yelled and I turned towards him again. “And speaking of him, why the fuck did you let him give me a list of artists I should learn from with _Klee_ and _Matisse_ and _Gauguin_ on it? That’s not my style!”

“You don’t have your style yet though,” I countered, but slightly regretted saying that.

“What are you talking about? Of course I have a fucking style!” He shouted back and leaned over the armrest.

“Ah, no not yet. You’re just drawing and painting in what you think is the ‘right’ or ‘perfect’ way. Not that there’s anything wrong with that! Most artists start out that way,” I clarified carefully, and saw Lovi raise an eyebrow. “Picasso started out that way! If you look at some of his earlier works, he’s all about the perfect realism and everything. It’s just as he got older he experimented with different styles and techniques which made him famous.”

Lovi sighed and replied, “But I’m not as good with paint.”

“I think that’s just because you’re trying to paint as your sketch, which you just can’t do. You should try to look at it as something different,” I offered and saw Lovi purse his lips thoughtfully. “You know Alfred started out like you. Then when he saw Van Gogh I think he decided to change the way he painted and –”

“I don’t want to hear about that American idiot, got it?” Lovi snapped back and huffed back into the seat.

I laughed easily and said, “Alright.”

Lovi was quiet for a moment, then I heard him search through his messenger bag and the rustle of papers.

“Do you like any of the artists?” I asked tentatively and turned on my side to look at him.

Lovi made a point of not making eye contact with me before admitting, “Degas’s alright…for a French guy anyway.”

I smiled and said, “I like him too. The ballerinas are very pretty.”

“Yeah,” He agreed quietly and flipped to the other paper, which I assume has my notes on it.

“Did you like what I wrote?” I asked with a smile and saw Lovi’s face heat up again.

“No, it was stupid! You can’t tell me what to do!” He yelled back automatically, as he pressed the paper to his chest and stared at me warily.

“Ah, you’re right,” I replied easily, and for some reason Lovi’s face reddened more. So I grinned a bit more mischievously and stretched my arms out to him, “Let me make it up to you with a kiss!”

“No fucking way! You’re sick!” Lovi shouted and backed into the cushion of the loveseat.

“Aw, but you said you never get sick!” I complained and made a dramatic frown.

Lovi paused for a moment as he pressed his lips together.

“You don’t deserve a fucking kiss,” He muttered and crossed his arms again.

“What? Why not?” I asked but Lovi just kept glaring at me. “Didn’t I convince you to come to school?”

Lovi’s eyes widened and he fidgeted with his shirt slightly. Then he looked away briefly and bit his lip, before crawling tentatively off the couch and walking slowly towards me.

I kept my arms outstretched and Lovi knelt into them a bit reluctantly. He kept his eyes pointed away for a while, and when he was only inches away from my face he finally made eye contact.

I love looking at his eyes. I don’t understand them, but there’s always a dozen emotions stirring in the molten depths of his brown eyes. He blinked once and bit his lip again. I thought he might move away, but in a sudden moment he quickly pressed his lips to mine.

But before I could take it any further than a chaste kiss, Lovi backed away and said, “N-now that’s all your getting until your better, you got that? Whiny bastard.”

I wanted to complain some more, because all I want is to hold and cuddle with Lovi; but I knew how scared he was to initiate contact, so I let him be.

“Alright, _mi querido_ Lovi,” I grinned happily, and Lovi turned away a bit embarrassed. Then I yawned a bit loudly and said, “Do you mind if I take a nap? I’m getting a bit sleepy.”

“Whatever,” Lovi muttered, and I saw him curl back up in the loveseat.

I smiled a bit stupidly when I watched him, because I could tell as I was falling asleep, Lovi was as well. I wonder why we end up sleeping so much when we’re together?

 

~

 

At some point I woke up and the first thing I noticed was the apartment was pitch black. I turned towards the loveseat to see if Lovi was still there and I saw him still sleeping soundly, his cheeks a bit pink and his mouth in an adorable pout. 

I felt a little better and I needed to use the restroom, so I got up quietly from the couch, stopped to steady myself, and walked across the apartment.

On my way back I stopped in the kitchen to look in my refrigerator – out of habit then anything else – but the sight of food still made me kind of nauseous so I just grabbed a glass of water and wandered back to the living room.

Lovi was still breathing soundly, and I noticed his hair was splayed in all sorts of directions from resting his head on the armrest.

I stepped closer to get a better look at him. He’s so cute when he’s asleep!

I wished he talked in his sleep or something, but instead Lovi just breathed slowly, and never moved a muscle. He looked a bit warm though, because I think I caught a light sheen on his forehead. He probably shouldn’t have gone to bed in jeans and his long-sleeve t-shirt.

I frowned slightly as I looked at his shirt, reminiscing slightly at the memory from a few weeks ago. As my eyes wandered down his black shirt I noticed his sleeves on both arms had slightly rolled up.

Then I caught a glance at some of the familiar scars, and my heart stopped. It’s strange. My body has the same reaction now as when I saw them the first time, yet I still don’t know for sure what they’re from.

I dared to take a step closer and I examined the visible skin of his wrist. One scar on his let wrist was particularly raised and slightly pink still.

I looked a bit hesitantly at the other few, silver and light, all horizontal until they disappear under his shirt.

They sort of look like –

Wait.

That’s not possible. I mean, Lovi would never…

Then my breath hitched as I remembered the way Lovi would claw at his arms when he’s nervous, rip up his drawings when he’s angry, and the way he stared at me with so much fear when I saw his arm by accident.

But still, that’s not evidence enough that Lovi would – I mean, Lovi wouldn’t actually _hurt_ himself, would he?

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, a lot happened for once, huh?
> 
> I actually had a list of things that I needed to happen this chapter, because the story's already falling a bit behind schedule. So I hope nothing came out as rushed, but everything just really, really needed to happen now.
> 
> Thank you so much to the new kudos-ers and commenters that I got :D I keep saying it, but it really does make me happy that there are people out there that want to read this story!
> 
> I'm back on a bit more regular schedule, so the next update won't be too long.
> 
> So with that, please comment and I'll see you soon! :D
> 
> Thanks so, so, so much for reading! You're all awesome!


	11. Guardians of the Secret, Jackson Pollock, 1943. Oil on canvas.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Antonio tries to figure things out through the fever, but Lovi's pretty mysterious, isn't he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so I'm sorry if Antonio's POV is a bit all over the place in terms of thought. Obviously during this chapter he has a lot on his mind, but I can't help but feel as though he comes out rather scatterbrained.
> 
> I guess scatterbrained is still rather Antonio-like though, so perhaps it isn't too frustrating.
> 
> In any case, sorry for the wait and I hope you enjoy the chapter! It's pretty long since it has so much dialogue (good or bad? I don't know).
> 
> TW for references of self-harm.

(Antonio’s POV)

 

 

 

I couldn’t sleep.

Or I guess it’s more like I couldn’t fall back asleep.

My mind keeps thinking and replaying every little thing Lovi did and I just can’t tell for sure. Maybe it was obvious all along – especially if I consider the way Feli and Francis acted – and I was just too reluctant to see it.

But if it is true, do I talk to him about it? Is that the kind of thing I can bring up? Lovi seemed pretty serious when he told me to drop the subject about his arm those few weeks ago.

I still can’t even decide if it’s possible for Lovi – my perfect, sweet Lovi – to be hurting himself like that.

Or maybe he _used_ to hurt himself?

When I talked to Francis about it, he made it seem as though I shouldn’t ask unless I see new…cuts. Ay, it just doesn’t even seem possible that Lovi would do that! If he did – _why_ would he?

I heard Lovi stir in his sleep and immediately I stopped pacing to look in his direction. I saw his soft, brown hair muss slightly, and then he stopped. I was going to give him my blanket, but it seemed as though he was already sweating quite a bit in his jeans and long-sleeve t-shirt, so I decided against it.

I groaned in frustration and turned around to see what time it was.

4:23 am

I really should try to sleep. At least until morning, and then maybe I can call Francis about it.

Quietly, I walked back over to the couch and as I was about to sit down I wondered: why are we sleeping on my couches? My bed is just down the hall.

So with another slow movement I shuffled to Lovi’s side and hovered over him as I tried to decide how to pick him up. He was curled up in a little ball, but maybe if I can slide my arms underneath him?

I held my breath and followed the process and was mildly surprised at how easy it was to roll him into my arms and pick him up.

He mumbled something in Italian, and tried to cuddle near my chest, but it didn’t seem like I had woken him up at all, so I smiled softly and started carrying him towards my room.

It’s funny, but even though he and Feli are twins, and are very similar in a lot of ways – in height and features for the most part – I always imagined Lovino as so much taller, and I guess heavier too. But holding him now, he really is pretty small and light. He’s so cute!

Once I’m in my room I walk quietly to the side of my bed, pull back the blanket and drop Lovino gently onto the mattress. He groaned and shuffled again, but I pulled the blanket back over him and he quickly snuggled against the pillows.

I wondered if I should change his clothes. He’s fine now because the blanket is cool, but I think he’s going to get very warm again.

Oh, wait!

I skipped over to my air conditioner and turned it on.

I usually don’t use this thing in the fall, but if it helps Lovi sleep, then it’s fine.

Next I wandered back over to the bed – which is not nearly as large as Lovi’s – and quietly snuck in. As I laid down, I turned towards Lovi’s direction, and he was still sleeping facing me; his cheeks were still warm and pink, and his mouth was still set in a firm pout.

Without thinking, I reached out to brush his bangs away from his eyes, and I sighed.

I wish I were smarter. Then maybe I would know what to do.

I know I should probably talk to him about it, but the last time…it just didn’t go well at all. And I’m afraid that even now – after Lovi has gotten to trust me a little bit more – he would never talk about his scars with me.

I’m even more afraid that if he knows I think he might have hurt himself, Lovi will just shut down completely and probably push me away even more, and that’s the last thing I want.

My train of thought stopped when I noticed Lovi had inched closer and was trying to snuggle against my shirt.

I couldn’t help but chuckle softly and wrap my arms around him. I really do love Lovi. I just want to help him somehow.

I guess I’ll just have to deal with this in the morning.

Well, the _morning_ morning.

 

~

 

“Bastard.”

“Hm…”

“ _Bastardo_ , come on, wake up.”

“Mhm…”

I felt something cool slide across my forehead, and instinctively, my eyelids fluttered open. Above me I saw Lovino’s golden brown eyes tensed slightly in concern.

“Damn it, you still have a fever,” He commented and retrieved his hand. Suddenly, I felt very hot without it. “I think you might actually be worse today.”

“Really?” I asked, and I blinked in confusion at how hoarse my voice sounded.

Lovino winced – I don’t think I’ve ever seen him worried before – and replied, “Shit. You sound as bad as you look. Did you sleep at all last night? Your eyes are puffy as hell.”

“Uh,” I started and broke into a painful cough. I turned on my side as I continued coughing and reached my hand around desperately for the bottle of water I usually keep on my nightstand.

“Oh, um – do you need water?” I heard Lovi shuffling near me and suddenly one of his cold hands was on my neck, supporting it up, and the other was helping me grasp the water bottle. “H-here. You can drink it yourself.”

I opened my eyes again, and now I felt the fever. Every movement my eyes made hurt slightly, and overall I felt pained by fatigue. I wonder if I can even talk – my throat just feels so _hot_.

The water was refreshing at least. It couldn’t have been very cold, but even room temperature was soothing to my aching throat and after I finished drinking, I twisted the cap shut, and sighed.

“ _G-gracias_ , Lovi…” I whispered weakly, but this time it wasn’t quite as pitiful.

Lovi didn’t seem convinced though, because he was still looking at me so carefully; almost as if he was afraid to see me so sick.

“Aw, is little Lovi worried for his teacher?” I asked playfully, and chuckled when Lovi’s eyes blinked away concern and were suddenly flashing furiously at me.

He wanted to smack me, and I saw him pull his hand back to do it, but when I coughed again, he stopped and frowned instead.

“ _Idiota_ , you’re not my fucking teacher here, got it?” He yelled and stormed out of the room.

“Wait, Lovi!” I wailed, and tried to crawl after him. “Where are you going? Don’t leave me, _mi amor_!”

“God fucking damn it! Don’t yell! You sound like a dying cat!” Lovino shouted from outside the bedroom.

I heard some more clanking and the opening and slamming of cupboard doors, so I assumed Lovi was making his way through the kitchen.

“Lovi~” I whined, and laid flat on my stomach across the mattress. Despite how miserable I felt, I couldn’t help but smile at the situation. Having Lovi take care of me is so cute!

“Damn it, just shut up you big baby,” Lovino ordered as he walked back into the bedroom.

I turned my head over, and saw him kneeling next to me, holding a pill and a bottle of Gatorade.

“Gatorade?” I questioned and squinted my eyes.

Lovi blushed slightly for some reason and pushed the bottle and pill into my weak hands.

“Y-you haven’t eaten anything in twenty-four hours. You should at least drink some calories,” He replied and looked away after I swallowed the pill.

“You’re pretty good at this, aren’t you?” I said casually, feeling a bit more refreshed from the ice-cold drink.

“Yeah, well, Feli’s pretty good at getting sick, so I had to learn a few tricks.” Lovi rolled his eyes and got up.

I watched him shuffle with the forgotten blanket I’d kicked to the base of the bed, and smiled contentedly as I was covered with the fluffy, warm layer.

“Lovi, if I married you, would you always take care of me like this?” I asked, and laughed out loud when I saw Lovi cough on a water he had gotten for himself.

Then he stomped over to me and poured his ice-cold water on my head.

“ _MIERDA_!” I yelped and shot up from the bed to stare at Lovi. “That was cold Lovi!”

“Good. It’ll help with your fever,” He replied with an evil grin, and sat down on a chair across from me.

I pouted at him, but Lovi didn’t seem at all fazed, so I gave up and dabbed the water drops off on my pillow.

“Have you been awake for long?” I asked and wiped some of my wet hair away from my face.

Lovi flushed a darker red and scratched at the plastic cup with his nails.

“H-how could I stay asleep when you were glomped onto me as if I was your fucking – I don’t know what! But you were burning hot, and I woke up sweating because of you!” Lovi finished with a yell, and slammed the plastic cup down on the table next to him.

“Aw, _lo siento_ Lovi. But you’re so cuddly and soft!” I replied with a giggle, and sat up on the mattress.

Lovino glared at me and crossed his arms.

Then something occurred to him and his face burned red again.

“Oh yeah, and how the fuck did I end up in your bedroom? Did you whisk me away when I was unconscious?” He asked, and one of his hands moved up to fix his perfect, brown hair automatically.

For some reason the question didn’t register with me, and I squinted back at Lovi in confusion.

“Damn it, Antonio! I know I didn’t sleepwalk into your tiny, uncomfortable bed, and part of me wondered if the whole sick thing was a ploy so you could s-sleep with me. But then I woke you up and you seemed shittier than usual. So what was it? Why did you carry me to your stupid, fucking bed?”

My eyes widened and all of a sudden the tired and haunting memories of last night and early this morning came flooding back to me. I guess none of it was a dream then. I really did wake up and find Lovino, then carried him back to my room.

But before that I…

“What?”

I blinked and refocused on Lovi’s confused, sparkling eyes.

“Huh?” I replied, and returned to scanning Lovi’s shirt. He had already readjusted it, and it smoothly covered his elegant arms to the wrist.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Is something wrong with my outfit?” Lovi uncrossed his arms to look down at his shirt, belt and jeans. Then he looked up at me with a smirk and added, “Though I don’t know why I’m worried about your opinion.”

I should’ve laughed. Or at the very least smiled. But I was still a bit distracted by the odd, fragmented memories floating around my head. Was it just my fever brain that thought Lovi would hurt himself? Does it actually make sense?

I mean it doesn’t make sense to me, because I don’t see why Lovi would want to hurt himself in the first place.

But when I think of all the things he’s done to protect himself from me, and then just his habit of looking down on himself: my heart starts to sink.

“Antonio? Are you okay? You look like you’re about to throw up,” Lovi said as he got up from the chair to hover near me.

I watched him desperately – as if looking at Lovi’s face has done anything other than baffle me every time – and Lovino pressed his cool hands on either side of my face. His molten brown eyes seemed steady for once, and I found my hectic brain and frantic heart slowing as I focused on them.

“Antonio,” Lovi’s calm voice said, and I breathed out when I heard his soothing Italian accent. “Are you okay, or do you need me to take you to the bathroom?”

I took another deep breath, closed my eyes, and breathed out again.

Then I looked at Lovi a bit more seriously, and much more aware, and encircled my hands around his wrists to bring them down to the mattress.

I kept his attention with my usual, wide grin and replied, “I’m fine Lovi.” I leaned in to kiss Lovi’s cheek, and when I knew he was following me with his eyes I ran my thumb quickly under his sleeve, and grazed the skin as softly as I could.

I kissed Lovi’s warm cheek and closed my eyes angrily.

The scars are still there.

They didn’t go away after Lovi told me to forget about them. They didn’t go away after last night. They’ll probably never go away.

And that doesn’t really matter. I have scars. My friends have scars. Everybody has scars.

But I know – somehow even an idiot like me does – that these weren’t an accident.

When I saw them the first time, I think a part of me knew right away what they were from; but the moment happened so fast, I easily convinced myself that I was wrong and it must have been something else. After all, it was my precious Lovi, and he just seemed so perfect and strong to do anything like that.

I pulled back from the kiss and looked Lovi in the eyes.

He seemed a bit intimidated and mystified by the kiss, but he didn’t say anything and just kept staring at me warily as I smiled and retreated my hands from his wrists.

“You know Lovi, I really might marry you if you keep looking after me like this,” I joked easily, and smiled wider when Lovi broke his paralyzed stance to flush irritably again.

“Y-you fucking bastard! Quit saying stupid shit like that!” He yelled and jumped up from the side of the bed to rush out of the room again. When he was outside, and out of sight he added with a bit more confidence, “You’re making it sound like I’d even consider marrying a dumb _idiota_ like you!”

I laughed easily and said as loud as I could, “I’ll just have to woo you _mi querido_! I’ll make you fall in love with me yet!”

He didn’t respond for a good half minute, and then replied a nonchalant, “Whatever.”

I grinned at the challenge, and slowly stumbled out of the bed. I leaned against the wall for support, as the room span around, then continued hobbling over to the attached bathroom.

Fortunately, I didn’t feel nauseous. But I did feel as sweaty and sick as Lovi made me out to be, and all I wanted at the moment was to take a shower and think for another few minutes.

So I turned on the water, meeting half way between hot and cold, and swiped my hand under the showerhead a few times until the temperature was what I wanted. I peeled away my used clothes, dumped them in a pile on the white tiled floor and stepped into the shower.

As I followed the routine automatically, my mind wandered back to Lovi.

I could confront him. I could tell him I know he used to…self-harm, and try to coax everything else from him after that. And in a perfect world with a compliant Lovi, that might work, but in reality…I have no doubt that Lovi would deny everything, break up with me, and never talk to me again.

I rinsed the shampoo from my hair and sighed.

No, I can’t confront him. That would scare Lovi and I know it.

What I need to do is make Lovi trust me. I need _him_ to tell me. That’s the only way.

If he tells me, that means he’s ready and wanted me know, and I can comfort him and welcome him with open arms like I would. But he has to do it.

I rinsed the last bit of conditioner out of my hair and turned off the water.

Will Lovi ever trust me enough though? He doesn’t even love me as it is now.

I pressed my lips together and slowly stepped out of the shower. When I reached the mirror above the sink I wiped my hand across and looked at my reflection. _Ay_ , I really do look sick. Hopefully I’ll be able to sleep at some point.

With another sigh I reached for one of the towels and wrapped it around my waist before stepping out into the bedroom again.

I wandered over to my dresser and searched for some clothes to wear: pulling out the first things I could grab. Then I walked back to the bed and started putting on the pieces one by one.

After my boxers and cargo shorts I felt pretty warm, so I put the shirt to the side and stretched my arms.

“Hey bastard, should I be worried that you died in there or something?” I heard Lovi call from the living room.

“Never fear _mi amor_! I was just taking a shower to clean my body for you!” I replied with a grin, and I laughed when I heard a string of curses.

“Damn it, as if I care what you do to your disgusting body!”

On impulse, I decided to hurry out of the bedroom and dash into the living room to surprise him.

As I was approaching the couch, I saw Lovi whip his head around to stare at me in a mix of fear and anger.

“W-why the fuck are you shirtless?” He demanded and backed into the armrest slightly.

“I wanted to show off,” I complained, and put on a fake frown when Lovi didn’t approve.

“Show off what? How sick you are?” Lovi asked, and his voice rose higher than I expected it too. “Damn it, just get back in there and put on a shirt before your fever turns into the plague or some shit.” He got up from the couch, turned me around, and pushed my back until I walked back into my room.

“Aw, Lovi! Don’t you think I look good shirtless?” I whined and looked over my shoulder at Lovi blushing in embarrassment.

“No. I. Don’t. Now put your damn shirt on, and start acting like a fucking adult so I can take your temperature,” He said seriously, but I could amusement sparkling in his eyes.

I smiled smoothly and replied, “Alright Lovi. Whatever you say.” And I shoved my head through one of my simple t-shirts.

“Finally,” Lovi muttered, and stepped closer until he was at my side. “Here’s the damn thermometer,” He said and passed the object into my hands.

After I pressed the little button and put the thermometer under my tongue, Lovi crossed his arms impatiently while we waited for it to beep.

When it did, Lovi quickly swiped it from my mouth and looked at it.

“101.5 degrees,” He sighed and looked at me accusingly. “You really fucked up didn’t you? I thought you were getting better last night.”

“Haha, _lo siento_ Lovi. I couldn’t really sleep,” I said and looked to the side a little sadly.

“Well don’t cry about it. I doubt you’ll die,” He replied sarcastically, and I smiled at him for trying to cheer me up.

Lovi blushed when he caught me smiling knowingly me at him, and then he fidgeted with the thermometer as he was trying to work the courage up to say something.

“U-um, listen…bastard. I kind of have to go right now. D-do you think you’ll be okay by yourself?” He asked tentatively, and looked at me shyly from under his lashes.

I grinned easily and replied, “Of course I will! I can always make Francis or Gilbert come over and take care of me anyway.”

His eyes dropped a bit and he muttered, “Right.”

I realized that Lovi must have taken that the wrong way and quickly I stood up to give him a hug.

His arms were still crossed when I wrapped around him, and I said, “ _Gracias_ for taking care of me Lovi. I really mean it.” Hesitantly, his arms uncrossed and found their way around my back. I took a deep breath and continued, “Maybe one day you’ll let me take care of you, alright?”

I smiled and pulled back to look at Lovi’s face.

He was still blushing, and laughed lightly as he replied, “Please. Nothing ever happens to me.”

I sighed quietly, although I knew he wouldn’t say anything different, and leaned down to give him a goodbye kiss.

Before I could though, Lovi slipped away from my arms, and I stumbled.

“Lovi!” I pouted and tried to reach for him again.

“Look, I have a pretty good immune system, but I’m not that amazing,” He said seriously and walked out of the bedroom.

“Aw, but that means I don’t get to kiss you until I’m better! Who knows how long that’ll be?” I whined and followed him into the living room.

Lovi picked up his messenger bag and flushed.

“I’ll come back tomorrow to check on you, alright _idiota_?” He muttered and began turning the doorknob.

I caught up to him rapidly, and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Come back to me soon, _mi amor_ ,” I whispered with a smile.

He jumped slightly and stared at me wide eyed.

Then he blushed and mumbled, “Yeah, yeah,” and as he walked out the door.

 

~

 

_Ring_

_Ring_

“Ah, _bonjour_ Toni! _Comment ça va_?”

I opened my mouth to reply, but started a fit of coughs instead of finding my voice.

“Well, I take it you’re not doing so well _mon cher_. Have you actually gotten sick with love?”

“Haha, maybe Francis,” I laughed easily, and continued. “Um, listen, are you busy at all today?”

“Well, it depends on what you mean by busy. Gilbert and I were going to stalk Arthur as Alfred stalks him and take photos of the whole thing, but I haven’t seen much of Gilbert yet...Why? Are you desperate for my company?"

I bit my lip and replied, “ _Si_ , in a way. I also have something to ask you that I hoped you could help me with.”

“Ah, it seems as though I’m quite popular this week. First Alfred, then Gilbert, and now you. Perhaps I should start my own dating advice radio show.”

“Well, you _are_ the smart one,” I admitted with a chuckle.

“When it comes to love I have been uniquely endowed with knowledge, that’s true. So should I bring anything when I come by? Are you hungry at all?”

“No, not really. I still have a fever and everything, so I’m not up for food yet,” I answered honestly, and ran my fingers through my hair.

“Alright then. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Though I may still bring wine because I don’t see how that would make you feel any worse.”

“Haha, okay. _Gracias_ , Francis.”

“ _Adieu, mon cher_!”

 

~

 

After the phone call, I drifted around the apartment nervously, too worked up to lay down and rest like I knew Lovi would be telling me to. Part of me was angry at Francis for not telling me about this earlier, but most of me was still angry at myself for not figuring it out earlier. 

And even though I think I know some, I know for sure that it’s necessary for me to talk to Francis. For whatever reason, he seemed to know quite a lot. But he usually does.

_Knock, knock_

I sped from my stance in the kitchen to the entrance and swung the door open.

“Francis!” I exclaimed and tried to tackle him with a hug.

Francis pushed me back however and said, “ _Désolé mon cher_. But I’m in the middle of completing my best designs yet so I cannot afford to get sick.”

“Oh,” I dropped my arms and let him inside. “I’m sorry Francis. It’s just been a while since I’ve seen you.”

“ _Oui_ , I agree. It’s tough meeting up with you when we live so far away. If only you hadn’t been so poor maybe you could’ve joined us in our apartment,” Francis said wistfully. As he wandered to the kitchen he added, “And then we wouldn’t have to share apartment with a moody Englishman.”

I followed him to the kitchen counter and watched as he opened the bottle of expensive-looking wine he brought.

“Oh, yeah. Do you know if Arthur has met Alfred yet?” I asked, and coughed into my hand.

“No, he is still blissfully unaware. Or perhaps irritably unaware is more accurate,” Francis replied with a sarcastic smile. “I am excited for these little art shows though. It will be fun seeing little Arthur showered with American affection. I’m not sure if I want him to get angry or bashful.”

I laughed slightly as I coughed and said, “Alfred’s really excited. He said when he’s not at school or at the MET he’s locked up in his studio and painting up a storm."

“Well that sounds like the little _Americaine_. So different from his brother, wouldn’t you say?” Francis commented absentmindedly, and I nodded in agreement. “Would you like a glass?”

“No, that’s fine. I’m still pretty sick, so I think I’ll stick to water,” I said as Francis began pouring a glass for himself.

“I don’t know why anyone would drink water when there’s wine.”

I laughed and walked over to my small kitchen table to sit down. Francis pulled out a chair next to me and set his glass down on the table.

“So tell me, how are things going with your little Italian?” Francis asked with a mischievous smile.

“Um, good,” I replied automatically, scratched the back of my neck. “I love him a lot actually.”

“Yes, well Gilbert and I never doubted that,” Francis winked and took a sip of his wine.

“Yeah,” I chuckled and looked down at the table a bit sadly. Then I closed my eyes and continued, “But Francis, I think I might’ve figured out something he didn’t want me to know.”

Francis stared at me curiously, and waited for me to finish.

“You know what I complained to you that time. When I said Lovi ran away from me after I saw his arm?” I asked and I saw Francis’s eyes darken with recognition. “I know it took me a while, but I need to ask you. Do you think Lovi might have… _hurt_ himself?”

Francis pressed his lips together and looked at his wine.

“I don’t know for certain, since I haven’t seen the scars myself,” Francis paused to sigh. “But from the way you described them and the way he reacted, it sounds very much like it.”

I didn’t say anything. I felt my throat tighten and I feared that if I tried to talk at all I might start crying. It hurts so much. Even though it may have happened a long time ago, and there was nothing I could have ever done to help him, I feel guilty. Responsible.

I just don’t understand –

“Why?” I managed to choke, and wiped away a tear that had bubbled at the corner of my eye.

“I don’t know. That’s something only he could tell you,” Francis replied softly and took another sip of his wine.

“B-but I just – why?” I asked again and covered my face with my hands. “I love him so much, I just don’t understand! It-it doesn’t make any sense!” I felt hot tears trail down my cheeks and stain my palms.

“I know,” Francis said, and I dropped my hands from my face to look at him.

“D-do you think he still does it?” My heart hurt at the thought of him still doing it. I wanted to make him happy more than anything.

Francis sighed again and said, “I don’t know. If you didn’t see any new cuts it’s a possibility he stopped. But it’s also not the easiest thing to ask.” He looked at the table miserably.

I stared at him blankly.

“Wait – how do you know about this?”

“I…knew someone in a similar situation,” Francis admitted and looked at me.

“R-really?” I asked and wiped some of the extra tears away. “Do I know them?”

“Yes, but I’d rather not say who it was,” He smiled bitterly and cupped his chin in his hand. “One piece of advice I can give you is don’t ask about it over dinner.”

“Oh,” I muttered, as I still tried to guess who Francis was talking about.

“I thought asking about it casually would be a bit less intimidating, but, well, this person didn’t seem to like it anyway,” Francis let out an empty laugh before picking up his wine again.

“Oh,” I said again, and watched him. “Do you think I should ask at all?”

“Asking’s tough. Especially since Lovino doesn’t seem like the honest type,” Francis looked up thoughtfully.

“Yeah, I was hoping maybe he would tell me on his own one day.”

“That would be ideal. Of course, it’s not an easy thing to tell people, you should know,” Francis warned and ran his fingers through his long hair. “But maybe in time he would want to tell you.”

“I hope so,” I said and intertwined my fingers together.

Francis was silent for a long time after that, and let me think and occasionally tear up again.

After he started pouring his third glass of wine he spoke up again.

“Toni,” He began quietly. “You should just remember that there’s more skin than his arms.”

I looked at him blankly as I pieced together what he meant.

Francis stared at me evenly and finished, “So there may be more to him than you realize.”

 

~

 

The rest of the day was a blur. 

Francis left after hugging me for about an hour. I didn’t mean to cry, but Francis seemed to understand what I was feeling and I guess that made me want to cry when he was there to comfort me.

It’s better that I cry with him than with Lovi I guess.

But when he had to go, I was alone again, but this time I was very exhausted. I took another ibuprofen – mainly because a Lovi inside my head was telling me to – fed Pablo, and collapsed on my couch. I fell asleep almost as soon as I closed my eyes.

I drifted in and out of a feverish sleep, but each time I opened my eyes I didn’t find the energy to do anything other than turn around.

At some point I woke up and saw Lovi sitting on the loveseat next to me. He was crying and holding his arm, and there was blood dripping down his skin onto the couch.

I tried to move towards him, but my body felt so heavy I couldn’t even lift my arm.

He kept crying and there was so much blood I started to panic because there was nothing I could do.

I wanted to yell, I wanted to run to him, but I couldn’t.

I couldn’t do anything.

I couldn’t – I couldn’t b-breathe…

My eyes shot open and I bolted upright.

“Vee~ Toni are you okay?”

I turned my head to the side and saw Feli standing next to me with an expression between concern and amusement. He was fully dressed in a fluffy cream sweater and dark wash, skinny jeans.

“F-feli?” I said as I took deep breaths. “W-what are you doing here?”

“Lovi told me to come!” He replied with a wide smile and sat down on the loveseat I thought Lovino was sitting on. “ _Si_ , Alfred came by our apartment to check in on Lovi’s work, and he wouldn’t let him leave so he told me to come in and check on you!”

“Oh really? Well that’s very nice of y –”

“And look! I brought Luddy!” Feli interrupted and pointed to a very awkward and pained looking Ludwig standing in a crisp button-down and slacks near the kitchen.

“Oh, _hola_ Ludwig! It’s been a while,” I said with a smile, and I slid my legs over the side of the couch. 

“Yes – how are you feeling?” He asked and walked over to the side of the couch.

“Um,” I paused to notice my clear head and cool throat. “I think I’m much better actually. I slept a lot.”

“Yay! Lovi will be so happy to hear that! I texted him earlier to tell him you were having a nightmare and he seemed pretty upset by it, so this’ll cheer him up!” Feli giggled and started tapping away at his phone.

Meanwhile, Ludwig took the initiative and offered me the thermometer.

“Oh, gracias,” I said and slid it under my tongue.

“Heehee, Lovi says that Alfred is keeping him captive in his studio,” Feli said and resumed tapping on his phone.

_Beep_

I took the thermometer out and looked at the temperature.

“99.2 degrees! I’m cured!” I announced and Feli gleeful clapped his hands with me.

“Well, almost cured would be more accurate,” Ludwig interjected and crossed his arms.

“Oh, Ludwig, how’s medical school going?” I asked casually and watched Ludwig stiffen automatically at the question.

“It’s good,” He said and looked at Feli nervously.

“What’s wrong?”

Ludwig looked back at me and it seemed as though he was…blushing? I don’t think I’ve ever seen his serious face anything other than serious. Was he nervous?

“Um, I haven’t told Gilbert yet, so I’d prefer it if you didn’t mention anything to him, but I’m…not in medical school anymore,” Ludwig finished, and I caught Feli holding his hand reassuringly.

“Really?” My eyes widened and I watched Ludwig nod awkwardly. “Oh, well I doubt Gilbert will mind. I mean he didn’t even finish two years of college.”

Ludwig smiled slightly and Feli wrapped his arms around Ludwig’s neck.

“See? I told you everything would be fine!” Feli laughed and kissed Ludwig’s cheek.

“Yes, alright,” Ludwig said and tried to free himself of Feli’s grip.

I smiled at them and asked, “What do you want to do then Ludwig?”

Ludwig seemed even more taken aback at that question, and now I know I’ve never seen him blush that much.

“Aw, come on Luddy! Just tell him! Toni will understand,” Feli insisted and went back to holding his hand.

“I, um,” Ludwig looked at Feli briefly before returning his attention to the floor. “I was thinking of going to…culinary school.”

I blinked once. Twice. Three times.

“Culinary school?” I repeated and Ludwig closed his eyes and nodded. “Oh, that’s so cool!”

Ludwig opened his eyes and glanced at me nervously.

“That’s really cool Ludwig! I’m so happy for you!” I grinned and laughed when Feli tackled Ludwig again.

“See? See? I told you Luddy! There’s no reason for you to be so nervous!” Feli cooed and Ludwig tried to push Feli away from him.

“Alright, I got it,” Ludwig replied and went back to crossing his arms.

“Do you want to become a chef or something?”

Ludwig fixed some of his slick, blonde hair anxiously and said, “I-I think I might want to be a…baker.”

“Oh,” I said. Then I thought of Ludwig baking his strudels and cakes and my smile broadened. “ _Oooooohhhhh_.”

“Antonio, please don’t tell Gilbert yet. I’m not sure I can handle his reaction yet,” Ludwig said earnestly and his blue eyes pleaded.

“Why? You know he’s just going to laugh.”

“Yes. And I’m not ready for that,” Ludwig replied and he looked to the side a bit annoyed.

“Oh, haha. Alright then. I won’t say anything.”

Ludwig gave me a small smile, and I slowly got up from the couch. I wobbled at first from the lightheadedness, and Feli steadied me for a moment before I walked into the kitchen.

“Do you want me to make you something Toni?” Feliciano asked as he skipped beside me.

“Sure, I’m actually pretty hungry now,” I muttered and opened the fridge to see what I have. “Um, I don’t have much. But maybe we could make pasta?”

“Of course! I love pasta!” Feli exclaimed and started searching through the cupboards for ingredients and pots.

“Um, I have to go outside and take a call.”

Feli and I both looked at Ludwig who was hesitantly leaving the apartment, and Feli gave him an ecstatic wave before he closed the door.

“So what was your dream about?” Feli asked as he filled the pot under the sink.

“Oh, um,” I felt the color drain from my face as I replayed it in my mind. “Lovi was in it.”

“Really? Was he hurt or something?” Feli brought the pot to the stove and turned it on.

“Um, yeah…” I mumbled, as I tried to figure out what to say.

Then I remembered: Feli knows. At least I think he does. He definitely knows something about Lovi that worries him, and he tried to hint at it to me more than once.

“Uh, Feli?” I started and leaned against the counter to look at his reaction. “Is Lovi hiding something from me?”

Feli didn’t jump, or flinch and just calmly opened the box of Penne to measure the contents.

“Vee~ I don’t know. Lovi’s so mysterious, isn’t he?” Feli said calmly, and I was almost startled by how smooth his voice was.

“Feli,” I began again, and this time I tried to sound serious. “I’ve seen the scars.”

Feli still didn’t turn around, and I watched his slender fingers play with the dry pasta.

“Feli, please. I just want to he –”

 I was interrupted by the front door opening and Ludwig rushing through again.

“Sorry, that was one of my bosses. I have to cover for someone at the gym,” He said as he made his way to Feli.

Feli met him halfway and kissed him quickly on the lips.

“Okay! Have fun! I’ll see you later _tesoro_!” Feli called after him, and my last glimpse of Ludwig was him blushing as he slipped out the door.

Feli stopped waving and dropped his hand slowly to his chest. I watched his usually cute, cheery face sadden and he looked so melancholy.

“Lovi doesn’t want you to know,” He said quietly and looked back at the bubbling water.

My breath hitched and I replied, “S-so does that mean he actually…hurt himself?”

I heard Feli sigh – it was such a strangely miserable sound – and he said, “Yes.”

I almost cried again. I definitely could’ve. But at this point it was less of a surprise and more like a tragic confirmation. If Feli says it than I can’t have any hope left that it might not be true.

“He stopped though,” Feli clenched his fist and turned around passionately. “H-he said he stopped so that means he’s happy again. He looks happy, doesn’t he?”

I watched Feli’s large brown eyes shine with unshed tears and I quickly rushed to hug him. He was so little and sweet, he quickly clung to me and sobbed quietly into my shirt.

“I think he’s happy Feli. When I see him with you he always seems happy,” I reassured him and pet his straight brown hair.

I felt Feli shake his head against my chest.

“He’s happier with you, I can tell,” He said, and I his voice sounded a bit stronger.

The thought of that made my heart tighten, and although I don’t know if that’s true or not, I really do hope he’s happy with me.

“I just want him to trust me,” I replied softly, and Feli pulled back to wipe his eyes.

“He will Toni,” Feli mumbled with a weak smile. “He just takes a bit longer.”

“Yeah,” I agreed with a forced grin, and Feli turned around to continue making pasta.

I wanted to ask him more questions. How long ago did he stop? How long did he do it for?

_Why?_

I want to know why more than anything.

But Feli’s silence seemed to say that he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, and I had to respect that.

What worries me though is that Feli only thinks Lovi stopped because Lovi told him he did. That doesn’t sound…reassuring.

I really hoped that Lovi told Feli the truth. But I also know that Lovi has a hard time telling the truth, and I know he wants to protect Feli more than anything. I wouldn’t put it past him to lie through his teeth so Feli could continue skipping around happily.

…

I guess I’ll just have to continue going on with Lovi as I have and wait for him to trust me. I’ll just have to help him as much as I can without him knowing I know.

He will tell me at some point though, _right_?

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn it. I'm really worried this chapter sucked.
> 
> For some reason, I had the hardest time writing this, even though I thought I had this planned way far in advance. I'm also worried I might have overdramatized the other characters reactions, but then again - Feli and Francis are people who wear their hearts on their sleeves, so...
> 
> Oh, well. I had to write something because we just had to move past this.
> 
> Thank you so much to the commenters! It really, really helped me keep writing this time. Although, it probably doesn't show because this chapter was so...ugh.
> 
> In any case, the story will go on! I hope some of you stick around to read more. 
> 
> Thank you so, so, so much for reading! I'll update soon, I promise! Three days wasn't so bad, right?
> 
> Til next time! :D


	12. Ladder to the Moon, Georgia O'Keeffe, 1958. Oil on canvas. (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Nobody sees a flower - really - it is so small it takes time - we haven't time - and to see takes time, like to have a friend takes time." - Georgia O'Keeffe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the wait! I didn't plan on the next part taking so long, but I encountered quite a few bumps in the road. 
> 
> I have the next two chapters almost done, and part of the reason this update was so delayed is because I planned on posting them close together. With that being said, expect chapter thirteen and fourteen very soon.
> 
> So, I don't want to take up any more of your time with my babbling, but just a quick thank you to my old and new readers! 
> 
> You're all so sweet and I'll see you at the end of chapter fourteen!
> 
> TW for references of self-harm.

_13 days to the art show…_

 

 

 

(Lovino’s POV)

 

 

I looked in the mirror.

It’s been a week – well, six days – since the last time I cut. I almost broke down on Friday, but I didn’t do it, so I think my streak still counts. A week is pretty good for me, but it’s after a week that things get rough.

I sighed and touched the scabs on my side. They were healing fine, but I can just tell they’re going to scar. I’m not sure if that bothers me or not.

I think I have a kind of fucked up relationship with my scars. Sometimes I’m ashamed of them, and I have moments – especially when I’m with some people – that make me wish I were stronger not to have done them. I guess I don’t care when I’m with strangers, because it’s not like it’s any of their goddamn business. But when I’m with Feli or Antonio, it makes me sad, and it makes me guilty.

When I’m by myself however, I often find myself pulling up my sleeves, taking off my shirt, and rolling up my sweatpants to look at what I’ve done – all without even thinking about it. I’ll trace my fingers over the scars, try to remember what happened when I did them, and wonder if I could have stopped myself somehow. Most of them I don’t think I could’ve.

But lately – like right now –  when I look at my scars, I try to imagine what Antonio’s reaction would be…if he knew.

I don’t want him to know. It scares me just to replay that day where he could’ve figured it out. But I know in my heart the longer I stay with him, the better chance there is he will.

What would he say? Would he say anything at all? Would he cry? Would he walk away?

It scares me so much, part of me wishes I’d never walked into his classroom and met those bright, green eyes.

“Lovi!”

My head whipped around, and I immediately ran to the bathroom door to triple-check I locked it. I did.

“What is it?” I finally replied.

“Vee~ It’s 8:40, so we should probably get going soon!” Feli yelled, and I could tell he was inside my room.

“Since when have you been punctual?” I snapped back, and pressed my ear to the door so I could listen for his footsteps.

I can’t come out until he’s out of my room. I’m only wearing boxers.

“Heehee, well I think I might skip the afternoon, so I want to be on time for my morning classes!” He said, and I heard him shift some more.

“God, you’re such a fucking diva,” I shouted, and frowned when I noticed he didn’t move. “Look – I’ll get ready as fast as I can, just get out.”

He paused, and then sing-songed, “Okay! I’ll be in the kitchen!”

I rolled my eyes and waited until the door closed, and the footsteps faded away.

Tentatively, I unlocked the bathroom door and peaked my head outside. Feli wasn’t there thankfully; I was always worried he would secretly stay behind.

So I hurried to my closet and closed the door behind me. Once I moved, the lights automatically turned on and I looked over my options.

I pulled out black jeans and black, leather belt and put those on. Then I paused at my blazers and plotted. I did have a really nice maroon blazer I’ve wanted to wear. Normally I would’ve worn it earlier, but I don’t like wearing long-sleeves under jackets (it just feels clingy and weird), and the last time I wore a t-shirt, I ended up having that accident with Antonio.

But I really do want to wear that blazer, so I’ll just be more attentive, and hopefully everything will be fine.

I slip on a simple grey t-shirt, and then put on the blazer.

“Lovi, what’s taking you so long?” I heard Feli called and without warning my closet door burst open.

I was already dressed fortunately, and I wanted to snap at him and demand why he came in without knocking at first. But Feli looked so surprised – as if he didn’t expect me to be fully dressed – I just stared at him in confusion.

“What?” I asked as I reached for socks and my black converse.

Feli blinked and smiled. “You look nice!”

“Oh,” I said and my hands flinched. “Um, _grazie_.”

Feli just kept smiling and watched me as I put on my shoes.

This is so weird. I feel like he wants to tell me something.

It was making me more and more frustrated, and at some point I turned to him and yelled, “Okay, why the fuck are you staring?”

“Vee~ I’m not staring,” He responded innocently and fixed his smooth, brown hair.

I pursed my lips and said, “Whatever.”  

After I finished tying my shoelaces, I got up and met Feliciano’s annoying, smiling face.

“You want to know something, Lovi?” He asked, and I just crossed my arms. “Class has already started!”

“Wait – what?” I snapped and pushed past him to check my room clock. It was 9:00. “Why didn’t you get me earlier?”

“I thought you’d be right out. You’re usually the first one up,” He said simply and skipped to the door of my room. “Well, we’d better get going! Don’t want to make Toni wait too long! He’s already getting worried!”

“How do you know he’s fucking worried?” I called after him, still scrambling around my room to collect my messenger bag and phone and headphones.

“Vee~ He texted me of course!” Feliciano replied and stuck his head back in the doorway. “He said he tried texting you too.”

I took my phone out of my bag and looked at it.

“Oh,” I said, and now I felt embarrassed. Ignoring the hot blush on my cheeks I rose my voice again, “Well, why the fuck is he worried? I’m not the one who was sick all weekend!”

I shoved the phone back into my bag and stomped through the doorway, past Feli.

“He just loves you, Lovi.”

I stopped in my tracks and stared at him.

“He doesn’t _love_ me,” I clarified, and hoped he could take me seriously despite my red face.

Feliciano smiled again, and his brown eyes sparkled mysteriously. I hate it when he suddenly acts all mystical and shit.

Then he giggled, and pulled me forward by my arm.

“You’ll see,” Feli said.

I curled my free fingers to my mouth to keep my lips turned down. Even though it was Feli’s stupid, ridiculousness that said it, the thought of Antonio being in love with me kind of made me…happy.

 

~

 

I wanted to run to school, but with Feli, that didn’t seem like a good idea, so I settled for just walking really fast, and it annoyed the shit out of me.

Of course I was walking so fast and anxiously I kept bumping into people, which ironically, made the whole process slower.

At some point, it seemed like I finally managed to find the light. Until I slammed head first into some moving person, and fell violently on the body.

“God-fucking-damn-it-fucking-shit,” I muttered as I tried to lift my head.

“Oh man, I’m so sorry! I guess I wasn’t lookin’ where I was goin’ and I – Lovino?”

My head shot up at the sound of that annoying, _American_ voice.

I saw a pair of happy blue eyes staring at me, somewhat hidden behind his disheveled golden hair, and I realized I was lying on top of him.

“Fuck,” I said and jumped up from him as if he were on fire. “Alfred? What the hell are you doing running into me?”

I stumbled to my feet, and felt Feli grasp my arm to help me up.

Alfred laughed and started getting up too.

“Haha, sorry man! I guess I didn’t see ya. You’re kind of tiny in a crowd,” He replied with a wink.

“I’m not fucking tiny! I’m five foot nine!” I shouted and waved my fist at him.

“Vee~ Actually we’re both five foot eight and a half,” Feli clarified, and I heard Alfred laugh some more.

“Damn it, stop laughing!” I yelled, but I got more flustered. “Oh, whatever. Go laugh your ass off, we’re going to class.”

I started walking past him, but didn’t go two steps past Alfred before I was yanked back.

“Hey!” I said and tried to free my arm. “Let me go you bastard! I’m already late!”

“Yeah, I know. But since you’re already late, do you think you could help me carry some canvases?”

“No,” I deadpanned and tried to lean away from his hand.

Alfred pouted and tried to look pitiful. “Aww, come on Lovi, Toni ordered this –

“Don’t you _dare_ call me Lovi,” I interrupted and glared at him furiously.

Of course, dumb Alfred only chuckled, as if I said some stupid joke and patted my hair.

“Alright mini-me, whatever you say! But as I was saying – Toni ordered this shipment of canvases, and if you don’t help me I’m going to have to carry them by myself,” Alfred whined, but his grip got tighter I noticed.

“Damn it, why don’t you ask Feli or someth – where’d the hell he go?” I turned my head in all directions and saw no trace of him.

“Oh yeah, he took off,” Alfred replied casually.

I sneered in the direction of the school and muttered, “That asshole.”

“Yeah,” Alfred nodded, and suddenly he was pulling me in the other direction. “Well, we’d better get going! Don’t want to make Toni wait any longer than he has to!”

“Hey! Damn it, no! Let me go!” I fought against him, but even with all my weight the bastard easily started dragging me forward.

Alfred looked over his shoulder and smiled, “You know Lovino, it’s a pretty nice art store. They have really cool paints and brushes and some awesome sketchbooks...”

“You think you can lure me there?” I frowned.

“Yeah,” He said simply and flashed another stupid smile.

I waited a moment, and fought with myself.

“Oh, fuck it!” I yelled and started walking. “Let’s just go.”

 

~

 

The art store wasn’t far fortunately. It was kind of on the way to Feli’s and my apartment, but we took a different turn.

Alfred didn’t let go of my arm the entire time – the bastard – because I guess he thought I would bolt before I got to the store. And I probably would’ve.

Once we were at the store however, I felt a lot better.

Alfred let go of me when we were inside, and he went to the register to ask for the order or whatever. I decided to take a tour of the store, and despite myself I got really excited.

I’ve always loved art stores. I mean, I love shopping in general, but something about shopping for art supplies makes me ecstatically happy.

And I hate to say it, but this store was actually pretty nice. There were rows and rows of different media: oil pant, acrylic, watercolor, sketchbooks, charcoal, and everything else.

I didn’t grab a basket, so as I was walking down the aisles I piled the merchandise in my arms and tried hard to keep it from overflowing. I started dreaming about the paintings I could make, and I found such expensive, nice paints I couldn’t narrow my favorites down.

At some point I caught myself smiling, and before I could correct it I heard a _click_.

At my left, I saw Alfred holding his phone up.

Fuck, he took a picture.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked, and immediately all of the happy-go-lucky aura I had turned into a red blush.

Alfred grinned and took another photo.

“Fucking stop it!” I yelled and wished I could punch him, but my arms were too busy trying to balance everything I was carrying.

“Sorry man,” Alfred laughed and looked down at his phone. “I’ve never seen you look so happy before, I had to take a pic.”

“I wasn’t happy, I was shopping,” I replied and shoved past him to go the register.

“I think you’re saying the same thing,” Alfred said, and then he _awww_ ed.

“Goddamn it, what is it?” I snapped and turned towards him.

“You just look so cute!” He flipped the phone around to show me.

I didn’t want to see the picture, but with it dangling right in front of me I had no choice.

“Delete it,” I ordered and turned back to the register to pay for my things.

“What? Why?”

“Because I hate it.”

“I don’t see why. You look cuter than Feliciano in this picture,” Alfred commented and I my blush spread to my ears.

Then he started tapping away at the phone and my heart stopped.

“What are you doing?” I asked suspiciously.

“Sending it to Toni.”

I didn’t say anything and tried to snatch the phone from him as fast as I could; but the bastard was just as agile as he was strong, and he kept it out of my reach.

After a moment of me jumping at the phone he smirked and said, “Done.”

“You asshole,” I snarled and punched him in the arm.

I grabbed my shopping bag and stormed out of the store.

I heard Alfred stumbling after me with the pile of canvases and he appeared at my side.

“You’re supposed to be helping me,” He said, and the canvases bounced when he narrowly avoided a skateboarder.

“I’m not _supposed_ to do anything.”

“Why are you so mad about the photo? I told you you looked cute.”

I brought my hands to my ears and yelled, “God, stop saying that! I don’t want to hear that from your stupid mouth!”

He didn’t say anything and I dropped my hands.

It was still silent, but after some time I knew he was smiling. I could feel it. And it was only a matter of time before he opened his goddamn mou –

“Ooooh, I get it,” Alfred drawled and bumped into me playfully. “You’re upset that I took you away from Toni, is that it?”

My face flushed and I shouted, “That is not it! I couldn’t care less if I saw that bastard ever again!”

“Haha, well I know that’s a lie,” He laughed, and looked at me mischievously. “So I guess I must have been pretty close.”

I pressed my lips together and didn’t say anything. I’m a terrible liar when I’m angry, so it’s best if I just grit and bear it.

“Ah, don’t worry Lovino. In five minutes we’ll be back and you can kiss and hug your teacher as much as you want.”

“Asshole,” I mumbled, but stopped at that and turned my head away.

 

~

 

When we reached the hallway I grabbed one of the canvases from Alfred’s pile and tucked it with my messenger bag.

“Now you help me?” He asked, and I noticed sweat was beading at his forehead.

Serves him right.

“Well, I have to look like I did something. Or else they might think I went with you willingly,” I replied and noticed my heart started picking up when Antonio’s classroom door was in sight.

I didn’t want to admit it, but it was actually kind of hard not seeing him for two days. I sort of…missed him.

Not to mention I was absolutely sick of hanging out with Alfred. He hung out at my house pretty much all weekend giving me lectures and handing me books of paintings, and then today, when I thought I was finally going to be able to see Antonio, Alfred drags me away.

Finally we reached the door, and I held my breath as I walked in.

Everyone was either at work or busy talking, and to my relief they didn’t even bother to look up when Alfred and I walked in.

I noticed Antonio wasn’t at his desk or at mine, and I deflated in disappointment.

Alfred dropped the canvases with a thud and I flinched. I guess I should go to my desk.

“Hey Lovino, what’s wrong?”

I turned in Alfred’s direction but saw he was already moving to my side.

“Nothing,” I muttered and bit the inside of my cheek. Why am I getting so depressed? I’m sure Antonio will be back in five minutes.

Damn it, I’m such a fucking girl.

“Aww, come on! You don’t have to lie to me! I’m like a freakin’ mind-reader; I can just tell!” Alfred exclaimed and I glared at him through my lashes. Then he grinned enthusiastically, and I cringed. “You know what you need? A super awesome hug, dude!”

Alfred wrapped his muscular arms around me – which was really awkward because I was still carrying a bazillion things – and then lifted me into the air.

“You fucking bastard! I swear to God if you don’t put me down this instant I’m going to tear you apart limb from limb!” I yelled and dropped everything I was holding to wrap my arms around his back and try to beat him with my fists.

I tried really hard to hurt him, but the fact that Alfred was laughing carelessly – like it was some hilarious joke for him – and the rest of the class seemed to be enjoying themselves too – was getting me really frustrated.

“Damn it, Alfred!” I shouted and momentarily stopped beating his back to catch my breath. “You better drop me now or I swear I’m going to –”

“Oh, hey Toni!” Alfred interrupted and in the same second dropped me to the floor.

I scrambled around to look at him, although I was still red-faced from embarrassment and fury, and almost smiled. Almost.

I wanted to. Hell, I’ve been waiting two days to see him. But as soon as I saw Antonio, I felt myself going stiff in fear.

“Hello Alfred,” He said, and my eyes went wide at the tone of his voice.

Damn, he sounds _pissed_.

I mean, he’s still smiling, but it feels so cold and scary. What the hell’s wrong with him?

“Um,” I muttered and Antonio shifted his gaze to me. “I-I’m sorry I’m late…?” I had no idea why I had the sudden urge to confess, but something about Antonio’s posture made me feel…intimidated?

He kept his curt smile, and said, “It’s fine.” Then he averted his eyes back to his desk and started shuffling through his papers.

I took that as my cue to leave and I quickly turned on my heel, picked up my things (minus the canvas) and walked to my desk.

As soon as I slid in the seat I tapped at Feliciano’s sketchbook so he’d look up at me, and asked, “What the hell’s his problem?” And I gestured in Antonio’s direction. 

Feli followed my hand and looked back at me.

“Vee~ I don’t know. He was fine a few minutes ago. Maybe he’s just upset that you’re late?” He offered, and I shook my head.

“Oh, come on. That bastard doesn’t say a word to anyone else who strolls in ten minutes before class ends,” I said and started unpacking my messenger bag.

“Maybe he’s just disappointed in you,” Feliciano said casually.

I stared at him.

“What the hell kind of thing to say was that?” I snapped, and Feli just shrugged his shoulders with a giggle.

I sighed and looked at Antonio. He was walking around the room and rapidly collecting stray paintbrushes and pencils and dumping them on his desk.

Damn it, he wasn’t even paying attention to me!

 

~

 

I waited until after class to go and yell at him. It wasn’t much of a wait since I arrived halfway through class, but I did have to suffer through the stragglers who decided to stay and talk to Alfred.

Once there was only one left, I just said _fuck it_ , and stomped over to Antonio’s desk.

He was sitting calmly in his chair looking at his phone.

“Bastard,” I said and he glanced up at me. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

Antonio didn’t fake smile anymore, and just pressed his lips together and looked away.

“Damn it, what is it?” I asked and my cheeks heated up in annoyance. “D-did I make you angry or something?”

The last part came out a little strained since it was something I’d been worried about. When I left his apartment, Antonio was acting a bit strange, and I couldn’t tell it was from the fever or something else.

Antonio looked back at me, and his green eyes shifted back to the stupid, warm ones I knew.

“No, no! You didn’t do anything,” He reassured me, and I saw his fist clench around a bundle of pencils. “It’s just that I was really excited to see you, and then I got really worried because you never texted back and you were late, and then –”

“So you’re just upset that I forgot to tell you I’m coming to class?” I asked sarcastically, and I couldn’t decide whether I was amused or irritated.

Antonio frowned and replied, “No, that’s not exactly it…”

“Well then what is it? I waited two days to see you and now you’re acting like we’ve never even met!” I shouted and crossed my arms.

Antonio opened his mouth and then closed it, and he went back to turning away and pursing his lips.

I clenched my jaw and muttered, “Well, fine. If you’re going to act like that, I’m going to ignore you jus –”

“Hey, there Toni! Did you hear about that idea Lovi and I h –”

_SNAP_

I stopped glaring at Alfred and looked back at Antonio. The bundle of pencils he was holding in his hand were broken in two halves, and Antonio was looking from his hand to me very embarrassed and very flushed.

_Oh, I see._

“Wow, man, that was pretty cool!” Alfred exclaimed, and Antonio laughed awkwardly.

“Y-yeah, I guess,” Antonio stuttered, and tried to get up from his desk. He seemed very uncoordinated though, and bumped into every obstacle there was as he got up. “Um, I’m just going to –”

“Wait a minute. Alfred didn’t finish telling you about our idea to go to a museum together,” I interrupted and smirked when Antonio’s eyes flashed to me.

His green eyes burned, but his hands and mouth seemed torn among several emotions. I couldn’t help but enjoy watching him fumble with his anger, and part of me wanted to push him further.

But dumb Alfred decided to pipe up and say, “Yeah, we were thinking of inviting all of the students that are working for the art show, and have a little field trip this Saturday!”

Antonio’s anger disappeared in a second – as if I’d only imagined it – and he was back to blushing furiously and laughing.

“O-oh, that sounds nice. We have a group message, so you can just ask everyone there if you like,” Antonio said and rapidly tried to gather himself again.

“Alrighty dude! I’ll get right on that,” Alfred gave him a thumb’s up and walked briskly out the door.

Antonio continued chuckling until Alfred was out the door, and then he glanced back at me nervously.

I grinned.

“So, Antonio,” I began and took a few steps towards him, until he was backed against the wall. “Do you happen to be the jealous type?”

Antonio gulped and looked away ashamed. He was still very red, which I found fucking hilarious, and his face was contorted in an expression of anger – I guess with himself.

I chuckled lightly and muttered, “You’re so stupid.” I leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

Antonio didn’t let me back down on my heels before he turned his head around and smashed our lips together, more passionately than we’ve ever kissed, and the most passionately I’ve ever kissed – ever.

He ran his fingers through my hair and kissed me deeper and more breathless. I felt like I was going to faint if I didn’t get any air, but I also felt dizzy and intoxicated.

I really liked it, but I couldn’t help but find Antonio’s sudden leap of passion so strange and funny. And when he wrapped his arms around my waist, I started laughing.

“Hey! Lovi, I was trying to be sexy!” Antonio whined, but I caught him smiling, and I didn’t feel so bad. “I don’t get it. Why are you laughing?”

“It’s just,” I said and I covered my mouth with my hand so he couldn’t see me laughing anymore. “I can’t believe you were jealous of fucking Alfred.”

Antonio blushed again, but he knit his eyebrows together seriously. “Well, you hung out with him all weekend, and then you basically skipped class to hang out with him again!”

“Yeah, right. The bastard doesn’t take no for an answer. He seems to think we’re like art buddies or something,” I rolled my eyes and finally managed to control my frown.

“But that too! You guys are also so similar, and then,” Antonio’s eyes darkened enviously. “He sent this picture of you when you were looking so cute! I’ve never seen you look like that!”

“Shut up!” I shouted and smacked his arm. “You’re going to delete that picture, got it?”

Antonio pouted for a moment, until something else occurred to him and his green eyes sparkled excitedly.

“Alright Lovi~” He purred and caressed my cheek with his hand. “I’ll delete the photo, but in exchange…you’re going to let me take pictures of you.”

I stared at him.

“Wait – are you like a photographer?” I asked dumbly and blushed when Antonio grinned. “Oh, I…didn’t know that.”

How did I not know that? Why hasn’t he talked about his art before? And when the fuck did Antonio become so mysterious?

“So will you let me take photos of you?” He pressed, and suddenly I felt all of the confidence I had morph back into insecure, flattered, blushing stuttering. Damn it.

“I – I mean, I guess so,” I said hesitantly, and kept my eyes on the ground.

I don’t like being photographed. I never have. If I catch Feli or Nonno taking pictures of me I either threaten them until they delete it, or go through the film myself and do it.

But Antonio seemed so jealous of the fact that Alfred took a picture of me, I can’t seem to say no to him.

“Wow, really?” Antonio pulled me back to his chest and hugged me happily. “Oh, I can’t wait! I never thought you’d actually say yes!”

“Just don’t me look stupid,” I mumbled, and closed my eyes at the comforting sound of Antonio’s laugh.

 

~

 

_9 days to the art show…_

 

 

 

Me (SENT 5:32pm): **Bastard is your apartment free**

Damn Antonio (SENT 5:33pm): _it’s always free for you mi amor :D :D :D_

Me (SENT 5:33pm): **You could’ve just said yes or no**

Damn Antonio (SENT 5:34pm): _but how romantic is that ;)  
_ Damn Antonio (SENT 5:34pm): _are you coming to visit me?_

Me (SENT 5:35pm): **Well my house has been infested with Feli and the potato bastard so I’m finding it hard to work  
** Me (SENT 5:36pm): **Are your annoying friends around, or can I try working at your place**

Damn Antonio (SENT 5:37): _it’s just me and my lonely heart waiting for you querido :D_

Me (SENT 5:37): **DAMN IT. IT’S YES OR NO**

Damn Antonio (SENT 5:38pm): _i’ll start making dinner!!_

Me (SENT 5:40pm): **You fucking asshole**

 

**~**

 

After forty-five minutes of yelling at the potato bastard, hauling my art supplies in a large bag and my half-painted canvas in another one, and cursing at the taxi driver for not being more careful; I somehow ended up at the front of Antonio’s tiny apartment door.

I couldn’t knock on the door – I was carrying too many fucking things – so I grumbled and hit my head against the door.

I heard a bit of yelling and clanking of pans, and I bet my Versace shirt that he just burned himself. Then there was running, and the door flew open.

He was smiling before his eyes focused on me, but when we made eye contact I noticed they twinkled stupidly, and I blushed.

“Lovi! It’s been so long!” He said playfully and took the bags from my hands.

“Yeah, about a fucking hour,” I replied sarcastically and looked at the marks the bag handles left on my hands.

Antonio placed the bags gently on the floor and skipped back to me. That’s when I noticed he was wearing an apron – a frilly, tomato print apron.

“Why are you wearing that?” I asked, and Antonio stopped in front of me.

“I’m cooking of course!” He replied with a grin, and cocked his head. “Why? Do you not like it?”

“It’s…” I trailed off and examined the rest of his hippie, don’t-care outfit. Damn, I need to buy him better clothes. I sighed and finished, “It’s like you.”

Antonio seemed to like that answer and swiftly pulled me in for a kiss, and I let him kiss me for a few moments, but when I felt his hands itch at the hem of my shirt I pushed him away and muttered “bastard.”

If he thought I was acting strange, he didn’t show it, and he simply pecked my cheek before returning to the kitchen.

I fidgeted with the hem of my shirt and walked over to my bags.

That’s only the second time he’s messed with my shirt, and although he’s never said a word when he does it, I can tell he’s trying to go further.

And it freaks me the fuck out.

There’s a teeny, tiny part of me that actually wants to keep going, and really wants to take his shirt off too. But the majority of me – the rational part of me – feels all of my scars light up and gets scared shitless that Antonio is only a few touches away from finding them.

I wonder how long I can keep fending him off like this.

“Is paella okay with you Lovi?” Antonio called from the kitchen and I lifted my head up.

“Aren’t you already cooking it?” I rolled my eyes and started unpacking my things.

Antonio chuckled and said, “Well, I just thought I’d check.”

I didn’t reply and started setting up.

I brought newspapers with me and laid them out on Antonio’s living room floor; though it probably wouldn’t matter if I got paint on any of his furniture anyway. It’s probably cheaper than the paint.

Then I took out my half-finished canvas and laid it down. I dropped my tubes of paint next to it along with my paint brushes, and looked around for a –

“Here you go,” Antonio smiled and placed a cup of water next to me. “Oh, and if you need an easel, I think I have one in the pantry. Do you want me to go get it?”

“Um,” I muttered, and blushed. “Sure.”

Antonio skipped out of the room, and I stared after him.

What, did he used to paint too? Well, I guess that makes sense. He does teach a painting course. But why the fuck haven’t I seen his work?

Antonio came back with an easel and set it next to me. He even went back to the kitchen and brought a barstool so I could sit.

I stumbled to my feet to say thank you, but he had already wandered back to the kitchen, and was whistling as he prepared the food.

I cursed at myself for botching the opportunity to say thank you, but went on with getting my paints ready.

Once I had all of the colors laid out on my palette, I took out a brush and started painting.

I was still working on the genre painting for the art show, mainly because Alfred bombarded me with more tips and shit and I found myself rethinking the entire painting. I don’t like listening to him, but I also know he knows his stuff when it comes to painting, so I can’t just ignore him either.

It’s still about Feli looking in the mirror and putting on his earrings, but the color scheme and the technique changed a lot, and I’m actually kind of, sort of happy with how it’s coming along.

Slowly, I felt my mind start to relax and my frustrations slipped away. Sketching has always been a passionate exercise for me, and I get caught up with the perfection and precision of it. But with painting…Even before Alfred waltzed in and told me I should change my style, I’ve always found painting very relaxing.

While part of me is painting and wandering my brush over the canvas instinctively, another part of me feels free to daydream, and I start wondering about Antonio.

Was he an artist before he became a teacher? I mean, he’s pretty young, but I guess he could’ve had a short career before he decided to become a professor, right?

Or maybe he wasn’t that good at art?

I glanced at him and saw him setting the table; everything looking neat and pretty damn beautiful.

Okay, well, I know he’s a bit of an idiot, but it’s not like Antonio’s actually stupid. I wouldn’t ever say this to his face, or at least not in so many words, but he’s actually a good cook. He can also see good art, which is something. And his sketches – fine, those are pretty shitty.

Alfred would probably say they have some sort of modern edge, but fuck it. I don’t care what the standards are for modern art, if I see a shaky line, I cringe.

But photography is a different form of art. It just takes life for what it is really, but in a creative, new way. Damn it, that seems just like Antonio. He _would_ be the one who wouldn’t change a thing.

“Lovi,” Antonio called and I stopped moving my brush. He smiled at me and said, “It’s ready!”

I got off the chair without saying anything and brought my palette with me to put it in the fridge so the paints wouldn’t dry out.

Then I sat down at the opposite end of the little, wooden table and picked up the fork. I’ve had Antonio’s paella before – he brought it to school a few times and made me try it – and although I’d order it at a restaurant, I like his paella quite a lot.

I started eating automatically, and kept trying to imagine Antonio as an artist.

“Do you like it?” He asked, and I finally made eye contact to see him watching me expectantly.

“Oh, um,” I looked at the plate and back up again. Then with a nervous blush I replied nonchalantly, “It’s alright.”

Antonio must be getting accustomed to my language though, because he just grinned like I gave him the biggest compliment and began eating his meal.

“Antonio,” I blurted without thinking, and panicked momentarily when he looked up. Well, shit, now I have to finish. “Um, why don’t you submit anything to the art show?”

He blinked and burst into laughter, which made me all the more embarrassed. Fucking bastard.

“Oh, Lovi. I’m not that good,” He said between giggles, and rested his chin in his palm. “I just do art for fun really. I don’t have as much talent or drive as you or Alfred.”

“Do you just do photography?”

“No, I do many things,” Antonio replied enthusiastically and he looked at me dreamily. “My mother was a professional dancer and singer, so I’ve always loved music and playing the guitar. And my father was a very good painter, so he taught me how to draw, paint, and photograph.

“I liked doing them all so much, I could never really choose, and I think that was part of my problem,” He scratched his head. “I never really gave one thing the attention it deserved, and on top of that…” He trailed off and smiled helplessly at me. “I guess I didn’t really care about being the best at anything.”

“Of course you didn’t, bastard,” I mumbled and glared at him.

Antonio kept smiling, but his eyes darkened and sparkled mysteriously.

“But you know Lovino,” He said mischievously. “I do really like photography. So maybe if you model for me, I’ll submit that piece to the ar –”

“No,” I interrupted and stuffed my mouth with more vegetables.

Antonio pouted and asked, “But you said you’d let me take a photo of you.”

“That’s fine – i-if you really want to,” I replied hesitantly, and tried to keep my face serious. “But I’m not going to let you show it off to a thousand strangers.”

“Aww, it’ll probably be only about a hundred or two,” He whined, and I guess didn’t realized how stupid his point was.

“I said no.”

I made sure to glare at him long and hard so he’d get the point, but my glares never seem to work on Antonio and he just nodded and bit his lip carefully.

“Good,” I scooted out my chair and walked away from the table. “Now, I’m going back to work.”

 

~

 

(Antonio’s POV)

  

 

 

Lovino worked for most of the night.

Right after dinner he went back to work, and painted vigorously until past eleven.

I have to say, I love watching him paint. It’s kind of like magic. There’s something so special about painting that makes it wonderful to watch. I always loved watching my father paint.

So after an hour of staring at Lovi while I sat on the couch, I had sudden inspiration, and I ran from the room without a word to get my photography supplies. I grabbed my camera (the most expensive thing I own), and a new memory card and hustle back to the room.

I started setting up to take a photo and moved the lamps around a bit to improve the lighting. Lovi pressed his lips together, and eyed me while I did this: he was still very unsure of having his photo taken.

To be honest, I’ll still reeling from the surprise that he actually said yes. I was fully prepared to whine and laugh it off if Lovi yelled and cursed at me for being stupid. I knew it was something he wouldn’t actually want to do.

But the fact he actually said yes…that means he’s starting to trust me, right?

So after I had everything the way I liked it – though it obviously wasn’t as nice as it could’ve been with professional lighting – I started taking the pictures.

Lovino was very aware of the camera. He’s so cute, because if he felt like I was going to take a picture, his entire face reddened, and I could tell he was fighting the urge to turn his head away. But he didn’t, and when he knew the camera was there, he just kept his lips in a pout, and his eyebrows tightly knit together.

I loved those photos very much: they capture the side of Lovino I find so adorable and intriguing.

But I was still desperate to find a photograph that was cuter than Alfred’s. I have to find that photo.

“Lovino,” I said playfully and watched him through the lens. “Work it, okay?”

He gripped the brush hard and flushed darker. “Work _what_ exactly?”

I laughed and said, “Just keep doing what you’re doing _querido_. It’s looking great.”

“I’m not doing anything,” He argued and turned back to the painting.

I frowned, and dropped the camera. Then I got an idea and walked around for a different angle.

“Lovi, think of something that makes you happy.”

He turned to me and scowled.

“And what the hell would that be?”

“I don’t know. Maybe Feliciano?” I offered and took a picture of Lovino rolling his eyes.

“Happy isn’t the right word. Maybe fucking annoyed,” He muttered and dabbed more paint on his brush.

I thought for a second, and said, “What about…food?”

“I’m not a damn dog.”

“Alright, how about Italy?”

“You trying to make me homesick?”

“Oh, _lo siento_ ,” I apologized with a light laugh. Then I stopped and looked at him carefully. “What about me?”

He jerked his head in my direction, and snapped, “W-why the hell would you make me happy?”

I kept watching him through the lens, and tried to understand his expression.

In a split-second decision, I said, “Because I love you.”

I waited for Lovino’s face to flush, and his eyes to shine in that curious, passionate way. I expected it, but that’s not what happened.

He was staring at me, but his face wasn’t red, it was very pale. And his eyes were wide, but they were more stunned in fear than pleasure.

“Lovi?” I asked tentatively, and lowered the camera from my face.

“No you don’t,” He said, and put his brush down.

“Of course I do,” I insisted, and furrowed my eyebrows. “Why would you even doubt it?”

His hands fidgeted with the ends of his sleeves and he replied, “You don’t know anything about me.”

“That’s not true! I know a lot about you. I know you’re from Florence, you grew up on a vineyard, you’ve drawn since you were very little, you were an excellent soccer player, you came here with your brother to study art, you –”

“That’s just my history! It’s not me!” He snapped and glanced fervently at me. His brown eyes looked so sad and angry, but they didn’t hold eye contact for very long, and he looked down at his hands again.

I sighed quietly and said, “I do know you Lovi. More than you think.”

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t even flick his eyes in my direction. But he was always pretty stubborn, so that’s not much of a surprise.

I know he’s trying to push me away; I can feel it. But I don’t want him to. I love him too much, and I know I can help him.

“But if you think there’s something I should know, you can always tell me,” I offered and smiled reassuringly.

He dug his thumbnail into his palm, and stayed silent. I could tell Lovi was trying to figure out what to say, so I watched him patiently.

“I,” He began and gripped his hands tightly together. “I just,” Lovi looked at me and faltered. “I should go back.”

He lept off of the stool and started scrambling for his bag. I didn’t move: I was still confused as to what just happened.

“Wait,” I said, and finally set my camera down on the coffee table. “You’re going back? Isn’t it late?”

Lovi shook his head, and muttered, “No, it’s fine. I should – I just have to get back. We have that stupid museum thing tomorrow and whatever.”

“But Lovi,” I said as I tried to maneuver near him. “You can stay if you like. It’s no problem.”

He already had his messenger bag over his shoulder, but I grasped his hands before he could get to the door. His hands were cold and slightly shaking, and I think I saw a tear escape his eye.

“Lovi, you’re crying,” I whispered and moved to wipe the tear away.

His hand got there first and he rubbed his eye hurriedly.

“I’m just going to go bastard. I’ll get my stuff later,” Lovi tried to yank his hands free, but I held on. “Damn it, let go!”

I did and he quickly grasped the doorknob.

Before he could leave I shouted, “Lovi!”

He stopped and kept his back turned.

“I do love you. Nothing you say can change that.”

He didn’t move forwards or backwards, and I held my breath hopefully.

After a minute, he quietly muttered, “We’ll see.”

And he slipped out the door.

 

 

 


	13. Ladder to the Moon, Georgia O'Keeffe, 1958. Oil on canvas. (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "To create one's world in any of the arts takes courage." - Georgia O'Keeffe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for references of self-harm.

_7 days to the art show…_

 

 

 

(Antonio’s POV)

 

  

 

I didn’t sleep for very long.

 After Lovi left, I was upset and angry, and wished desperately that I hadn’t opened my stupid mouth.

Why did I say that? Why did I tell him I love him?

I mean, I do very much, but I knew Lovi was still afraid. I knew he wasn’t ready to tell me anything. It’s just so hard! I know more about him than he was ready for me to know, and yet I still feel like I know so little.

I put away his palette in the refrigerator, and cleaned the paint off of his brushes, but my brain was still too wired.

So I went to my pantry, and searched for my old acoustic guitar I hadn’t touched in so long.

Until very early in the morning, I sat near the window and strummed the chords, humming the tune to a song my mother sang so often. It didn’t solve my problem, but it did soothe my nerves, and at some point I must have dozed off because I woke up with my guitar in my arms.

 

~

 

We were supposed to meet in front of MoMA around 11am, but in hopes that Lovi would be there early I decided to leave for the subway at 10:15. 

It was cold today, so I dressed in layers, jeans and my old Vans (it’s been so long since I’ve worn anything other than sandals), and I huffed in the chilly October air. It’s time like these I miss Spain desperately. New York can be quite wonderful in the spring and summer, but I’ve never really been a fan of fall and winter.

Fortunately on the subway, I didn’t have to worry about the weather much, but something I did forget was how much the subway system confused me. I haven’t needed to use it in so long, I must have lost my sense of direction; and I ended up taking twice as long as I should’ve because I took the wrong train twice.

So by the time I got to the MoMA, it was almost eleven and the group was mostly gathered.

Alfred was in the middle giving a lecture or something, and I noticed Lovino and Feliciano were huddled in the back nearer to the glass windows of the museum.

Lovino was wearing the black fancy coat he bought from Armani some time ago, and he looked very elegant as he stood nonchalantly with his hands in his pockets. Both he and Feli had red noses and cheeks from the cold, so I wondered briefly if they’d been there for a long while.

“Hey there Toni! Why don’t you join us?” Alfred called loudly with a wide grin.

I walked briskly to the group and replied, “Hey Alfred, have most of the students arrived?”

“Yeah, I think we got ‘em all. There were two who couldn’t make it, so this is our group!” He said and breathed on his knuckles. “Alright then class, you have your assignments. Let’s get a move on!”

Alfred pointed to the door, and slowly everyone shuffled in that direction.

I stayed back as I waited for Lovi, and when he started walking through, I went in after him.

“Hi Lovi,” I said with a smile, and his body jumped slightly.

He turned around to make eye contact with me and he blushed.

Lovi always blushes when we make eye contact: it’s so cute.

“Hey bastard,” He muttered and faced forward again.

I breathed a sigh of relief that he talked to me, and I didn’t bother replying.

We went through the ticket line individually – aside from Alfred, who had some sort of membership – and I was the last one to pay after Feliciano and Lovi.

When I got my ticket, I fully expected Lovino to have already left to fulfill the assignment that Alfred and I created; but he still standing near the ticket booth, arms crossed, and face in an adorable pout.

I ran up to him a bit confused and he said, “Took you long enough. Let’s go already.”

Then he turned on his heel and started storming through the hallways. I quickly caught up to him however, and walked briskly beside him as he maneuvered swiftly through the crowds.

“Lovi,” I piped up as I dodged a stroller. “Can we hold hands?”

He flicked his golden-brown eyes to me and pressed his lips together.

“There are too many people here,” He said and kept walking.

“Oh, okay,” I replied a bit disappointed. Then I shuffled a little closer to his side until our arms were occasionally brushing and he looked up at me.

His lips fought a smile, and his eyes sparkled, but he quickly turned his head forward again and mumbled, “Idiot.”

 

~

 

“Lovi, I didn’t know you liked Matisse.”

“As if I had a choice, you damn bastard. It’s on the fucking list you and Alfred gave me,” He snapped as he handed his ticket to be punched.

The man didn’t seem pleased with Lovi’s words, but I just laughed.

“Maybe he’ll grow on you,” I offered, and followed him into the room.

Lovi walked tentatively into the room, and stood in front a frame.

When I moved beside him he asked, “So what exactly can I learn by a few pieces of paper?”

“They’re cut-outs! I think they’re really cool!” I exclaimed and took in _The Fall of Icarus_. “See how he uses shapes?”

“Uhuh,” He pursed his lips and strolled over to the next painting.

“Hey! You barely looked at this one,” I complained and hopped over to him.

“I think I grasped the concept.”

I watched his eyes flick across the new cut-out rapidly, and wondered what he was thinking.

“Do you like them?” I asked.

“Um,” He began as he walked to the next one. “They’re interesting.”

I smiled at him and stayed silent as we continued jumping from cut-out to cut-out. Lovino kept his fast-pace throughout, and never bothered to wait for me when I got caught up in a particular piece.

At one point he lingered – just for a minute longer – and I ran up to him before he could leave.

“Do you like this one?” I asked, and took a glance at the cut-out myself. It’s titled _Creole Dancer_.

He looked it over again, and said casually, “It’s fine.”

“The colors are very pretty in this one. I like the movement,” I commented and analyzed it more.

Lovino nodded once, and walked away.

I followed him again, and decided to ask the question that’s been bothering me.

“Lovi,” I turned towards him and waited for his eyes to shift to me. “Are you angry at me for yesterday?”

His eyes widened a bit in surprise and he blushed lightly.

“No, it was,” Lovi glanced at the ground awkwardly. “It was my fault.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I pointed out and wished he would let me touch him now. “But I still mean what I said. You can trust me, you know.”

He was quiet, and kept his eyes on the floor.

I waited, then looked back at the cut-out when I figured he wasn’t going to say anything.

And then, all of a sudden I felt Lovino’s cold fingers slowly intertwine with mine.

I looked down at him and he was blushing furiously now, but he kept his eyes as far away from me as possible.

Then he muttered, “Come on _idiota_.” And he tugged me through the rest of the exhibition.

 

~

 

Lovi acted about the same wherever we went.

He never spent too long on any one work of art. The maximum was about four minutes, but on average it was about two. I don’t think that meant he was bored really; I think he just didn’t like to look at anything for very long. Maybe he didn’t need too.

But from watching him, I started to understand when he liked something. When we passed the Picassos, his lips were pressed together and he didn’t stay for more than a minute. He didn’t seem to like them (even though Picasso’s Spanish!).

Kandinsky didn’t appear to bother him. Lovi’s face was fairly blank when he looked at the paintings, but he didn’t rush to the next one.

The ones that interested him seemed to be Cezanne, Toulouse-Lautrec, and Modigliani. I’m actually not sure whether he liked Modigliani as an artist or because he was Italian; but from what I could gather, Lovi seemed to prefer paintings of strong color or strong line.

But I guess that only suits him. He’s such a passionate artist.

Still though, he didn’t say much when we were together. Occasionally, I’d ask his opinion, and he’d answer with one or two word responses, but that was about the extent of it.

But he held my hand, and I like to think that was his way of telling me everything was fine.

Well, as fine as they can be I suppose, because after all of that, I don’t think Lovi trusts me. He’s just trying to.

 

~

 

After we were done touring, Lovi and I caught sight of the other students and we were quick to separate our hands. Though by their giggling and whispering to Alfred, I can only assume they know too. _Ay_.

I wanted to talk to Lovi some more, or at least ask when he was coming over, but soon after we met up with the group, he was swept away by Feli, and we only got to say brief, not-romantic-at-all goodbyes before he closed the door of his taxi.

So, the way home for me was rather melancholy. I haven’t been this thoughtful since my fever last week. Though, I guess in all fairness, the thoughts didn’t really stop; I just decided to focus on other ones for a while.

But I should know it’s impossible. The fact that I know something so personal and tragic about Lovino, that it seems he has no intention of ever telling me, is pretty terrible. And I can see the struggle in his eyes.

Sometimes, like last night and today, I can see he wants to tell me. There’s a debate in his eyes, like he’s playing out the scene in his head and he doesn’t know the result.

When I finally got home, I sighed and dropped my jacket on the couch. I took a glance at the painting Lovi left behind, and it lifted my spirits slightly. In the painting, I can feel all of the love Lovino always denies for his brother. I think art is the only time Lovino is ever truly honest.

Maybe I just need to keep being honest with him, and he’ll open up to me.

I wandered over to my guitar and sat down near the window again. As I looked down at all of the people walking by, I strummed my guitar lazily and thought of my mother’s song again.

It’s been a long time since I actually sang, but I tried to remember the opening verses.

 

_Amado mio_

_Love me forever_

_And let forever_

_Begin tonight_

_Amado mio_

_When we're together_

_I'm in a dream world_

_Of sweet delight_

I hummed the rest of the song, and kept playing the guitar. Slowly my lessons from the past came back to me, and my fingers moved more deftly over the strings.

 

~

 

Mi Querido Lovino (SENT 8:39pm): **Ding dong**

Me (SENT 8:40pm): _who’s there ;D_

Mi Querido Lovino (SENT 8:40pm): **Just open the fucking door**

 

~

 

I skipped to the door excitedly and swung open the door.

Lovi was still dressed in his fancy coat, but his soft, brown hair was slightly mussed by the wind and drizzling rain. He looked up at me with molten-brown eyes and I noticed his face was slightly damp too.

“Lovi, did you walk here?” I asked as he stepped in anyway.

“I didn’t feel like taking a taxi,” He answered and started unbuttoning his coat.

After he reached the last button he opened the coat and took it off, and carelessly tossed it over my jacket on the couch.

He was wearing a dark red, long-sleeve shirt and black jeans, but I didn’t really expect anything different.

“Are your clothes wet? Because you can borrow some of my clothes if you like,” I offered and already started moving towards my bedroom.

“No, it’s fine,” He said, and I stopped halfway.

Then Lovi crossed his arms and looked anxiously to the side. He looked like he wanted to say something.

“W-what’d you think of the painting?” He blurted, and seemed angry with himself for asking.

I looked at his canvas still sitting perfectly on the easel. “Oh, I like it a lot! I told you earlier how much I liked it.”

“Yeah,” Lovino nodded and furrowed his eyebrows. Then he threw his arms down in fists and looked around. He stopped when he saw my guitar. “Were you playing?”

“Ah, yes I was,” I replied happily and moved over to the guitar.

I picked it up and held it in my hands; and I noticed that Lovi was watching my every move very curiously.

I sat down by the window and tuned my guitar automatically, enjoying the fascinated glances Lovi was throwing my way. He curled up on the chair and brought both knees to his chest, and looked at me expectantly.

“Damn it, play something already!” He snapped and his cheeks flushed in frustration.

I laughed lightly, and asked, “What do you want me to play?”

He hesitated, then replied, “I don’t care.”

I smiled and nodded, and began to play “Amado Mio” again, trying to remember the way my mother performed the song. I tried to make the tempo slow and sensual, and as romantic as it was meant to be.

I looked at Lovi, and his eyes were still set in an intense gaze.

“Are you going to sing?” He asked and fidgeted with his fingers.

I stopped playing and hummed thoughtfully. Then I confessed “I’m not that good, unfortunately.”

“I don’t care,” He repeated and wrapped his arms around his knees.

I thought for a moment and imagined the way my mother sang it. Her pitch and tone were always so perfect, I’m often afraid to try and imitate it.

But I flicked my eyes back to Lovi and he still seemed very set on hearing me sing for him.

So I smiled again – mostly to bite down my own nerves – and picked up the tune.

Once I was comfortable with the strings, I glanced nervously to Lovi, and began singing the first verses.

His eyes widened, and I wondered if he was surprised by the song or my voice. I’m not sure which one I’d prefer.

But I enjoyed watching his timid expression as I sang the words, like he was trying to understand the meaning of the song.

After the second verse, my voice felt stronger and I sang more confidently.

 

_Many times I've whispered_

_Amado mio_

_It was just a phrase_

_That I heard in plays_

_I was acting a part_

_But now when I whisper_

_Amado mio_

_Can't you tell I care_

_By the feeling there_

_For it comes from my heart_

 

I looked at him meaningfully, and he flushed a darker shade of red. It made me grin a bit wider, and I wondered briefly what Lovi was thinking when he curled his fingers to his mouth and watched me finish the song.

When I finished the verses, I continued humming the tune and strumming the guitar for a few minutes, and savored the lingering afterglow of the music.

Lovino buried his face in his arms, so I could only watch his back rise and fall slowly with the chords.

After a while he quietly asked, “Why?”

“Why what?” I replied and slowed the tempo down.

He took a deep breath and clarified, “Why do you think you love me?” He turned his head to the side and I caught the glint of his eyes. Then he added, “I-I don’t get it.”

“Hm, well for one thing I don’t think I love you,” I said and he maneuvered his head ever so slightly in my direction. I winked and added, “I _know_ I do.”

Lovino scoffed and hid his head again.

“You’re so stupid.”

“Just stupid in love, Lovi,” I laughed and stopped playing.

Lovi shook his head slightly and sighed.

After a moment I decided to say, “You know, part of me always wanted to be an artist. A true artist.”

Lovino looked up.

“Like I said, I didn’t really care about being the best at anything. That was never very important to me. But I did love it. I loved all of it. I loved photography, playing the guitar, singing, dancing…” I trailed off and sighed. “But I was always a bit afraid. My parents were such great artists, and I knew I wasn’t as talented, so I thought it’d be easier to do it just for fun and never commit to anything.”

Lovino was still staring at me, and I smiled back.

“That’s one of the things I love about you. You don’t let anything stop you from becoming the artist you want to be. Even if it’s hard,” I said and plucked at the guitar strings. “I love that you’re so passionate.”

Lovino’s eyes were glistening, and he pressed his lips together.

“B-bastard, you’re more passionate than me,” He stuttered.

“Hm, why would you say that?” I asked curiously, and put my guitar down.

Lovino seemed angered by the question because he dropped his legs to the floor and clenched his hands into fists.

“Because of – I mean – come on! You’re so… _lovinggg_ …” Lovino held the last sound in complete horrification as he realized what he said.

I grinned excitedly and walked over to where Lovi sat.

“I’m so what?”

“Damn it, never mind!” He shouted and got up from the chair.

I quickly grasped his wrist, and pulled him back to me.

“I’m so loving? Was that it?” I asked playfully, and Lovino just grumbled under his breath.

“Yeah, loving as in puppy, or your dumb turtle,” He muttered and glared at the ground.

“ _Really_?”

I snaked my other arm around his waist.

Lovi’s breath hitched, but he kept his gaze away from me and said, “Really.”

I smiled at the challenge and gently, I turned Lovi’s face up so I see could his face.

“You know Lovi, maybe there is one thing I’m passionate about,” I said and caressed his cheek softly.

His skin heated up under my touch, and he looked at me angrily. I liked feeling him grow impatient, so I took my time bringing my face down to his.

“Damn it, bastard! Just kiss me alr –” Lovi stamped his foot, but before he could finish his sentence I pressed my lips to his.

His muscles relaxed, and soon I felt his cool hands intertwining in my hair – I didn’t realize how hot I’d gotten. But kissing Lovi is so much fun, I didn’t really care, and I wrapped both of my arms around him so I could pull him as close as possible.

He gasped slightly and broke away from my lips, but I continued planting butterfly kisses across his cheeks and jawline as I tried leading him someplace else.

While we were stumbling across the room – and hitting several chairs – as we did so, Lovi’s eyes seemed to sharpen slightly.

After we hit a lamp he yelled, “Okay, where the fuck are we going?”

“I don’t know,” I giggled, and pushed Lovi backwards.

He yelped as he fell onto the couch, but as soon as he gathered himself he shouted, “You fucking bastard! What the hell do you think you’re doing pushing me around?”

I crawled on top of him, and his scowl immediately deteriorated to panic. Then I stopped.

“Uh, Lovi?” I said, and he blinked slowly. “Can I take my shirt off?”

His blush reappeared and he stuttered, “W-what? Why?”

“I’m really, really hot,” I complained, and aired my shirt to show him. He seemed very hesitant, and I’m sure he was wondering if he might have to undress too. “You can keep your shirt on. I’m just sweating right now.”

“I don’t want to touch your sweaty body,” He replied and crossed his arms awkwardly.

“Aww, but Lovi! It would be super sexy!”

“Nothing’s sexy about you.”

“Really?” I asked deviously, and was happy Lovi gave me another challenge.

He seemed to realize his mistake, because right after he snapped, “Don’t try to prove it to me bastard! Y-you’re just going to look stupid!”

I didn’t listen to him, and started lifting my shirt off anyway. Lovi kept cursing, and when I huffed out of the shirt, he was glaring at me.

I raised my hands and exclaimed, “Ta-da!”

Lovi rolled his eyes.

“There’s nothing ta-da about you,” He said as he gave me a onceover.

“But look at my abs!”

“Those aren’t abs.”

“And my biceps!”

“What biceps?”

I pouted and dropped my arms.

He looked at me and exclaimed, “Damn it, what do you want me to say?”

“I want you to say I’m sexy –”

“Stop saying that! It’s not going to happen!” He shouted, and then retreated to pulling his sleeves down over his palms. “You’re more like…I don’t know – kind of… h-handsome or something.”

I stared at him, and watched his cheeks redden darker with every passing second.

“Really?”

Lovi clenched his fingers and snapped, “Oh my God, yes really.”

I laughed lightly and leaned over him. He shut his mouth at once and stared at me carefully.

I brushed some of his hair away from his eyes and smiled, “You know, you’re very handsome too.”

His brown eyes burned and his bit his lip.

“No, I’m not,” He whispered, and he curling his legs and arms back into him. He was closing me off again.

“Why do you say that?” I asked and my fingers lingered near his forehead.

He sighed and muttered, “Just because.”

And that was it. Lovi officially shut down.

I was able to hug him and hold him, and he even responded by hugging back. But he wouldn’t talk; he’d already drawn the blinds around himself. I could tell when I rubbed his back and whispered in his ear, he had already closed his mind off to me – I’m sure a thousand torturous thoughts were buzzing in his head.

It killed me not to say anything. It was painful to keep being naïve and ignorant. But I kept telling myself this was for the best. Lovi obviously needs time to trust me, and I think he may even be taken a step closer today.

When it became very late, and Lovino started nodding off on my shoulder, I asked if he wanted to sleep in my bed with me.

With no hesitation, he kissed my cheek and whispered, “Yes.”

And he slept soundly in my arms for the whole night.

  
~

 

_5 days to the art show…_

 

 

 

(Lovino’s POV)

 

 

 

It’s been almost two weeks now since I last cut.

I can’t believe I’ve made it this far; it’s been so long since I’ve made it past a week. It’s not as if I haven’t thought about it – it’s still almost constantly on my mind – but it’s more like I haven’t found an excuse. Or an opportunity.

Over the weekend I considered telling Antonio. It crossed my mind several times when I was with him. However, each time…I was just too damn afraid.

I’m afraid about what his reaction would be; I don’t want him to be disgusted by me. But I’m also afraid that if I do tell him, and he doesn’t run away, I might have to stop for good. And that terrifies me even more.

I might be okay now, but how long will that last? What will I do if I’m stuck in my head and unable to move? What will I do if my anger is out of control? I know I told Feli I would quit, but I really just took it back a few notches. I don’t cut everyday as I did before – I only cut when I need to. But I will need to again. I think I’ll always need to.

Or at least, that’s what I’ve always thought.

Somehow being around Antonio distracts me. When I’m with him, I sometimes forget that I have scars. I feel as though I’m still that normal boy before I made the first cut.

After I stayed over at his house, he would alternate playing the guitar with taking photographs of me as I painted. I preferred it when he played the guitar. I liked hearing him sing. He said he wasn’t good at singing, but that’s not true. I like the rough, Spanish imperfections in his voice: it’s all just very comforting.

Not that I’d ever tell him that.

But I think he may have figured it out anyway, because he ended up singing for me today too. I mean technically he was playing for the whole class as we worked, but...

I liked to think he meant it for me.

 

~

 

“Hey, hey, hey! How goes it mini-me? 

I tore my eyes away from my painting and glared at Alfred’s smug, smiling face.

“What are you doing here so late?” I asked as I put the paintbrush down on the table and crossed my arms.

He sauntered over in his paint-stained overalls and said, “I could ask you the same thing.”

“I’m working,” I deadpanned and turned back at my painting.

“Is this still the same one?” He stopped next to me and looked at the canvas. “Dude, it looks great. You need to stop overanalyzing it.”

I grunted and picked the paintbrush up, only to have it snatched from my hands.

“Hey! You bastard, give it back!” I yelled, but Alfred kept it out of my reach.

“Nope!” He grinned, and held a finger up to signal he was about to give a lecture. “Lovi, you need to realize that there is such a thing as overpainting. You just need to take a step back, and leave it alone. Focus on your portrait or something!”

“That’s already done. Now give me my damn brush back!”

“Wow, really?” He commented, and looked at me curiously. “Who’s it of?”

I blushed and frowned furiously. “None of your damn business.”

“Oooh, I get it,” He chuckled and his blue eyes flashed. “It’s of Toni, isn’t it?”

“No, it isn’t!” I denied and punched him hard in the arm.

Of course, stupid Alfred didn’t seem to notice and he started singing, “Toni and Lovi sitting in a tree –

“Oh my God. SHUT UP,” I ordered and gave him another hard punch in the arm.

“K-i-s-s-i-n-g,” He finished and started cracking up into another fit of laughter.

“You’re a fucking idiot, you know that,” I huffed and sat down in the chair near my canvas. “Isn’t your stupid boyfriend coming to the show on Friday?”

For once, it was Alfred’s turn to blush and he chuckled a bit awkwardly.

“Well, he ain’t my boyfriend. I just want to get to know him,” He said and sat down in the chair next to me.

Damn it.

“Man, I sure hope Toni’s friends will convince him to come,” He continued and sighed wistfully.

“Shit. Those idiots are coming?”

“Hey! One of those idiots is my brother!”

“Who?” I asked, and stared at him wide-eyed. It couldn’t be the albino, could it?

“Mattie, of course!” He exclaimed and raised his hands.

I squinted my eyes, and leaned back in the chair.

“Never met him.”

“Oh, you’d like him. He’s real sensitive. It’s like he can read minds,” Alfred said and ran his hand through his hair.

“Whatever,” I replied and looked at my painting. I closed my eyes and slowly asked, “Are those idiots really coming?”

“Yeah, of course they are! You not like them or somethin’?”

“No,” I frowned as I imagined their stupid laughs. Then I groaned and asked, “Do I have to go?”

Alfred turned to me and his smile briefly faded.“Hm, whacha mean?”

I dug my fingernails into my palm and repeated, “Do I have to go to the art show?

“Well, yeah. I mean – why wouldn’t you go?”

I took a deep breath and tried to sound nonchalant when I confessed, “I don’t want to. I…don’t like crowds.”

“Aw, but it’s a party! And you know almost everyone there!” Alfred exclaimed and looked at me enthusiastically.

He doesn’t get it.

“Are you worried about not finding someone to talk to? Because you’ll have Toni and me and your little bro. Not to mention Mattie and the others!” Alfred grinned and patted my back.

He still doesn’t get it.

“Come on, Lovino. You _have_ to come! Toni will be so sad if you don’t. And I mean – your art is being showcased!”

I sighed. There’s no way I’m getting out of this.

“Fine,” I muttered and stared sadly at my painting.

“Yes!” Alfred shouted and gave me one last slap to the back. “I promise it’ll be fine. You’ll have a blast.”

“…Whatever.”

 

~

 

_3 days to the art show…_

 

 

 

“I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

“It’ll be fun Lovi! I did this all the time in Spain.”

“Right.”

I narrowed my eyes as I watched Antonio set a blanket out on the sidewalk, and placed an empty bowl at the edge. Then he sat down cross-legged and began tuning his guitar.

I didn’t know what to do, so I sat down next to him and nervously avoided the strange stares everyone walking by were giving us.

“Are you sure you’re allowed to do this?” I asked and fidgeted with my scarf.

“Busking? Si, of course!” Antonio said happily and gave his guitar a loud strum. “I told you I did it –”

“ _All the time in Spain_ , I know,” I rolled my eyes and yanked the scarf from my neck. Then I glared at him and snapped, “But do you have to wear that stupid outfit?”

“This isn’t stupid! It’s a matador outfit!” He exclaimed and showed off the elaborate beading on his shoulders…again.

“Yeah, but do you need it to play the fucking guitar? I don’t see a bull anywhere.”

Antonio’s eyes twinkled and he smiled.

“No, but I do get more money if I wear this outfit,” He said and nudged my side.

I didn’t want to blush – because I knew he was being a conceited moron – but damn it! He did look good in the outfit. It’s the first time he’s ever worn anything formfitting and…it’s whatever.

“So what song should I play?” He asked casually and strummed the guitar.

A few people glanced at us, and every single one of them did a double take when they saw Antonio.

“You think I give a shit?” I replied hurriedly and tried to hide my face.

“I guess I should play something Spanish,” He said more to himself, and my ears pricked.

I’ve never heard Antonio speak Spanish; aside from a few words at a time. I wonder what it’d be like to hear him sing it.

Antonio started playing the guitar and gained a rhythm. A few people started lingering and they waited for him to sing.

 

_Ya no estás más a mi lado, corazón/ You’re by my side no more, my love_

_En el alma sólo tengo soledad/ And in my soul all I’ve left is loneliness_

_Y si ya no puedo verte/ And if I can’t see you anymore_

_¿Porqué Dios me hizo quererte?/ Why did God make me love you_

_¿Para hacerme sufrir más?/ Just to make me suffer more?_

 

Yeah, I can’t really deny it anymore. I do love Antonio’s voice. And when he sings in Spanish, I love it even more. I only understand half of what he’s saying, but by his lovey-dovey looks and twinkling eyes I can sort of assume the rest.

He dragged me out here because he thought it would be a romantic date. Of course, I thought it was stupid (and it technically still is), but somehow…Antonio seems to make the stupidity kind of fun.

And I like making money, so that was one of the better parts.

Antonio tried to convince me to sing along with him, or dance along to the song. But I convinced him that I never sing and I never ever dance via hard slaps and cursing.

Instead, I ended up doing street sketches: and they were mostly of Antonio singing. People seemed to like those though, because I sold quite a few, and it added a nice sum to our bowl.

I’d like to say I did that all from my amazing art skills alone, but maybe speaking Italian and hitting on every girl that passed by helped too.

After the seventh girl gave me her number though, Antonio seemed like he as sick of busking and he very dramatically broke midway through his song and pulled me in for a kiss.

Then we packed up, and went out for dinner with our new money.

Antonio's very good at distracting me.

 

~

 

_1 day to the art show…_

 

 

 

I stared blankly at my ceiling fan and focused on my breathing.

In. Out. In. Out.

I’m going to be fine; it’ll all be fine. Alfred’s right. There’ll be Antonio and Feli, and if I’m really fucking desperate there is Alfred I guess, and Antonio’s stupid friends. I don’t have to worry. It’ll be like there are just ten people in the room. Everyone else won’t even matter.

“Lovi?”

I turned my head to the side and saw my bedroom door creek open.

“Are you still awake?” Feli yawned and leaned against the door.

“Kind of,” I admitted and looked back at the fan. “Why are you awake?”

“I was just getting something to eat. I can’t sleep when I’m hungry,” He laughed and I said nothing. Then he asked, “Are you okay?”

I hesitated for a half a second and replied, “I’m fine. Just…nervous.”

“About the show? Why?”

“Because…” I sighed and closed my eyes. “I don’t know. I just am.”

“Vee~ Everything will be fine _fratello_. You’ll see. You know Luddy’s coming too?” He said happily, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “I can’t wait!”

“Yeah.”

“You should get some sleep Lovi, okay? You’ll need energy for tomorrow,” Feliciano said, and I heard the door quietly shut behind him.

I sighed again, and opened my eyes.

The fan was still spinning, but it seemed to be going slower. I couldn’t keep my eyes focused on it anymore.

My head was too heavy.

 

~

 

_Day of the art show…_

 

 

 

I can’t do it. I can’t.

I’m afraid. I’m very afraid of going to the art show, and it’s not even about my fucking art. This is exactly the kind of social situation I try to avoid.

I also feel like I’m at the end of my rope. I need to cut. Soon. _Now_ actually.

I’m holding one of the blades I kept in my bathroom, and it’s screaming at me: _just do it. Just fucking do it already_.

It would help. It would help _so_ much. If I cut now, I would be fine during the reception. My mind would basically be in outer space, and if I became stressed at any point I could just dig my nails into my cuts and I would be fine again.

But…

Why do I keep thinking of Antonio?

I can’t even bring the blade to my skin without picturing his face. I can’t do this now. Not after everything he’s done for me. He’s made me happy. I’m actually happy when I’m with him. I can’t just do this anymore. It doesn’t feel right.

I didn’t realize my breathing had grown frantic, but when I finally heard it, it made me all the more anxious.

So, on impulse I tossed the blade against the tile walls; then I turned on my heel, and stormed out of the bathroom.

I was already dressed in my black blazer, slacks, and converse (because damn it, I’m too tired for uncomfortable, dressy shoes), so I didn’t bother to stop in my room before I continued walking into the kitchen. I needed to go before I could change my mind.

Last night I already emptied my wallet of its blades, and that was all I was taking with me along with my keys and phone.

I’ll be fine.

“Lovi!” Feli exclaimed and I didn’t have time to dodge him before I was ambushed in a hug. He pulled back and said, “You look so nice! Are you ready?”

“Thanks. Um, yeah I guess,” I mumbled and looked at his pretty, navy blue suit. “You look good too.”

“Ah, _grazie_ ,” He smiled and bounced away from me to gather his things. “I’m so excited! I hear there’s going to be wine and fancy food.”

“Really?” I asked numbly and stared at the clock.

6:30pm. It starts in a half hour.

“Do you want to get going, Lovi? I’m kind of excited to see how Toni and Alfred curated the place.”

Feliciano giggled as he tapped at his phone, and skipped to the front door.

I bit my lip, and stared after him.

_I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go. I don’t want to –_

“Vee~ Lovi, are you coming?”

“Yeah,” I responded automatically, and followed him.

I closed the door after me, and locked it.

As Feliciano started babbling about Ludwig and the show and how much fun it was going to be, I dug my nails hard into my palms and tried to remember Antonio’s music.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to do any notes until the end of the fourteenth chapter, but alas, there are a few things I had to say.
> 
> Note: Although I started this story last fall, I was researching the MoMA, and discovered they were hosting Matisse's cut-out exhibition this October – which coincidentally is the month this fic is currently in. So…we're just going to pretend this au was always meant to be in 2014 haha.
> 
> I actually visited the cut-out exhibition when it was at the Tate Modern in London, and loved it very much :D I was super excited I could include it.
> 
> Also Note: I have this head cannon that Antonio's mom (in this fic) is someone like Rita Hayworth; and the song he sings for Lovino, "Amado Mio," is a song Rita sings in the movie Gilda.
> 
> If you look up the song, I recommend choosing Rita's version. She sings it so wonderfully :)
> 
> And while I'm at it, I'm sorry for the inevitable slew of mistakes. I'm trying really hard to crank these chapters out while they're so dependent on each other (me and cliffhangers), but I also have the terrible curse of hating to edit my own work. I'll be sure to fix them after chapter fourteen.
> 
> But yeah, I'll see you soon with the next update! And it will be very, very soon. I promise.


	14. Love, Gustav Klimt, 1895. Oil on Canvas.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The art show isn't all it's cracked up to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for self harm.

(Lovino's POV)

 

 

 

“Vee~ Doesn’t it look so nice Lovi?” 

I took a tentative step inside the room and glanced at the walls.

“Yeah, I guess,” I muttered and kept walking inside.

It was exactly seven now, and most of the group was already here, plus more people I didn’t know. Great.

I saw Alfred with most of the strangers. He was laughing and pointing at things and – goddamn it, he’s wearing his fucking overalls. I thought he was supposed to be wooing someone today. He’s such a moron.

Feli tugged me along, and we hurried past "Alfred the tour guide" and towards the refreshments table in the back.

“Lovi, do you want a glass of wine?” Feli asked as he already poured himself one.

I took a glance at the bottle and frowned, “I’d have to be drunk as shit to stomach that.”

“Aww, it’s not so bad,” Feli said as he took a gulp, and I distinctly caught him wincing as he swallowed.

“Right,” I rolled my eyes and peered around.

“Toni’s over there, if you’re looking for him,” Feli piped over my shoulder and I jumped.

I glared at him and snapped, “Who said I was looking for him?”

Feli didn’t respond and just pointed in another direction with a smile. I hate that smug smile.

But despite myself, I looked over and saw Antonio standing with another little herd of strangers near the front of the entrance.

“Oh,” I sighed and my gaze dropped to the floor again. I can’t talk to him now. He’s too busy with everyone else.

“What is it?” Feli asked and tried to catch at my face.

“Nothing.”

“Vee~ I don’t think so,” Feli sing-songed, and I suddenly felt myself being yanked again. This time to Antonio.

“Feli, what the fuck are you doing? Stop it! I don’t want to see him,” I whispered harshly, but Feli just giggled and gave me one hard shove towards Antonio’s back.

I hit him, and awkwardly stumbled back to regain my balance. Then he turned around a bit confused and looked at me.

“Lovi!” Antonio smiled, and wrapped his arms around me for a hug. He released me quickly though and asked, “How are you?”

My face was flushed in embarrassment since every single one of those wide-eyed, nosy, American strangers were looking at me; but at the same time, I was also kind of pissed that I didn’t hear Antonio’s _mi amor_ and all that shit. I mean, I know he can’t say any of that here, and I guess he can’t kiss me either, but I don’t know I just kind of missed it and – DAMN IT, NEVERMIND.

“Great,” I mumbled and crossed my arms defensively.

Antonio grinned and opened his mouth to say something, but someone tapped on his shoulder to get his attention, and he turned back to his group.

I puffed up slightly in anger, but at the same time, I knew there was nothing I could do; so I decided to leave and loiter near the closest wall. I stared dumbly at Feli’s masterpiece of a daily Starbucks scene, and then shifted to Gupta’s architectural plan-inspired drawing of a typical family kitchen. Son of a bitch actually made something for the art show. Who would’ve thought?

It made me smirk slightly, and without thinking I looked over my shoulder to see if he was here. It didn’t seem so. That fact made me a little sad actually. He was the only loner I could sort of relate too.

Although I can handle the rest of them individually – and I’m better with the girls – seeing them laughing and smiling in a huddle is intimidating, and I just want to back away.

As I was gawking at them and deciding what to do with myself, I accidentally made eye contact with Feli: who of course instantly waved his hand to signal me over. Going with my gut reaction, I flipped him off; but that didn’t faze Feli in the slightest, and he just waved his hand a little harder.

People were starting to stare…again. So I sucked it up and stomped to their group, noticeably quieting my steps as I neared their laughter. At a time like this, my pride flew out the window, and I hovered near Feli almost without shame. Since he was one of the main people leading the conversation, it felt safer for me and I could stand idly by without being too obviously quiet.

I don’t know what they were talking about. It didn’t matter what they were talking about. I heard words like “Luddy” and “Halloween” and “party,” and I sort of pieced together where they were going with this, but there was nothing I had to contribute.

My mind is closing in on me. I can _feel_ it. But I don’t want it to happen.

Shyly, I nudged Feli’s arm and asked under my breath, “Hey Feli, do you want to just hang in the bac –”

“Luddy!” Feli interrupted me (without realizing he did), and sprinted full speed at the dumb potato bastard waltzing into the room.

The guy was still dressed like he was going to prep school, but his stupid face seemed distinctly happier and softer than usual. Even though he wasn’t smiling.

I thought about joining them: just so I could curse at the bastard and have an excuse not to stand here by myself. But then they started kissing and holding hands, and it just seemed too disgusting to get involved.

Antonio was still talking to people. It looked like he was orienting the guests to the exhibit, and greeting them with his big, Spanish smile and handing out pamphlets or whatever the fuck.

I know he has to. I know it. But what am I supposed to do? I can’t do anything by myself. Will they let me leave?

“Hey man, why don’t you pop a squat here?”

I turned around and saw Alfred sitting solemnly in one of the chairs near the refreshments table. I can’t believe I’m resorting to sitting with _him_.

“What happened to you?” I asked spitefully, though I didn’t really mean to.

Alfred didn’t notice anyway, and sighed, “Artie ain’t here.”

“It’s only the first half hour. Antonio’s idiot friends aren’t even here,” I said and took the seat next to him.

“Yeah,” Alfred blinked slowly and dropped his head. “But Mattie shot me a text saying Francis and Gilbert were having a tough time picking the lock of Artie’s bedroom door. I don’t know if they’re going to make it.”

“He must really hate art,” I commented and leaned back.

“Yeah,” Alfred agreed, and let out another loud breath.

He didn’t say anything more, and I felt my thoughts steady a bit. Okay, this is fine. I’m not talking, but I’m fine. If I can just suffer through this, then maybe I can talk to Antonio and my mind will be distracted for the better.

Minutes passed, and with nothing else to do I watched Alfred begin to consume the entire refreshments table in his misery. He managed to scarf down the entire bowl of chips and salsa while alternating with gulps of the large bottle of Sprite, and then moved onto the dessert platter of cookies and brownies.

At that point I had to look away, because he started mumbling as he was chewing and I saw all the fucking chocolate roll around in his mouth and it was just - no.

“Oh,” He said, but most of his voice was muffled by the food.

“Chew first. Talk later bastard,” I ordered, and Alfred washed the brownies down with another swig of Sprite. Disgusting.

“Look, it’s Mattie! Mattie, over here!” Alfred yelled and stood up to his full height so he could catch his brother’s attention.

I looked around for the unlucky soul who happened to be related to this asshole, and was surprised when I saw a slender, blonde man in a cream coat and corduroys – he was a little bit shorter than Alfred – wave back timidly with a gentle smile.

He walked up to us, and I debated getting up.

“Hey Alfred, I’m sorry we’re late.”

His voice was so soft, I had to lean over my chair to hear it.

And it seemed as though that’s when he noticed me, because then he stretched his hand out and said, “Hello there. I’m Alfred’s brother, Matthew. You’re Lovino, right?”

I stared at his hand suspiciously and then shook it.

“How do you know my name?” I asked and Matthew’s indigo eyes softened – if they could get any damn softer.

“Oh, everyone talks about you. Actually when Anto –”

“Mattie, hey, sorry to interrupt, but uh, what the hell happened with Artie?” Alfred asked a bit frustrated, and Matthew frowned.

“I told you we were having trouble with him. He doesn’t come out anymore,” Matthew said calmly and he brushed crumbs off of Alfred’s face.

“But what happened? What did he say exactly? Is there some way I can convince him? Do you think it would help if I talked to him beforehand?” Alfred rambled frantically, and Matthew shook his head in exasperation.

“Why don’t you come with me and I’ll tell you all about it,” Matthew offered and led him away by the elbow. While Matthew was walking away he mouthed _sorry_ to me, and I just blinked.

The wave hit me.

It’s always something small that does it. And this time it was just Alfred and Matthew walking away. The thing is, I know they didn’t mean anything by it. I know it wasn’t to hurt me or to ostracize me. But it doesn’t matter, because my mind just makes it hurt me anyway. This was just the little thing that pushed it over the edge – it was a longtime coming and I knew it.

All I want to do now is leave. I have to leave. That’s all that’s on my mind.

I stand up numbly and start walking towards the door. I saw Feli still skipping around with Ludwig, Antonio was talking to Dr. Oxenstierna now, and Alfred was huddled with Matthew in a corner.

They’ll be fine. They won’t notice; they’re busy, and they’re having fun. I’m just not and I need to fucking leave.

When I was pushing open the door, my heart skipped a beat in brief panic when I saw Gilbert’s eyes pass over me. But in another second he grinned at Francis and dragged him in Antonio’s direction.

I sighed. I don’t know if it was relief or disappointment.

But I didn’t wait another second to decide before I fled the building.

 

~

 

(Antonio's POV)

 

 

 

Dr. Oxenstierna left me to tour the exhibit, and when he was out of earshot I sighed in relief. He’s nice (I think), but he’s also so, so scary. 

“Kesese! Looks like someone still has his job!”

I whipped my head around and saw Gilbert’s ruby red eyes glinting playfully. I grinned instantly and pulled him in for a quick hug.

“Oh _amigo_ , it’s been so long since I’ve seen you!” I cried, and Gilbert laughed some more.

“So you’ve missed the awesome me, huh? I guess that’s not much of a surprise,” Gilbert said proudly and broke the hug to cross his arms.

“ _Si, si_ , I have! I feel like I never see you anymore!”

“ _Oui_ , well that’s not entirely out fault is it?” Francis’s smooth voice chimed in and he walked up beside Gilbert. He smiled mischievously and added, “You’ve been spending all of your time with the little Italian. I thought you might have forgotten about us.”

“Ah, _lo siento_. Maybe I have,” I apologized half-heartedly and scratched the back of my neck.

“You definitely have. It’s as if we’re not even a trio anymore. That freaking British guy might take your place!” Gilbert slapped me in the arm playfully.

“Oh, well…”

“Don’t listen to him, mon cher. Gilbert is still innocent to the passionate changes love brings. He’s still stuck in middle school unfortunately,” Francis drawled wistfully and flipped his hair.

“ _Verdammt_ , that is not true! I know more about love than you do! And it’s way more awesome!” Gilbert snapped, and Francis looked at him knowingly.

“Hm, are you talking about someone in particular?”

An obvious red blush crept across Gilbert’s pale face and he punched Francis lightly on the arm.

“We’re not talking about this here,” He whispered harshly, and I couldn’t help but join in with Francis’s laugh. Gilbert’s so funny when it comes to love.

“Very well, _mon cher_. You and I will have the "talk again" when we get back,” Francis said sarcastically, and patted Gilbert’s back. “Now Toni, where is your hot-blooded Italian anyway. I’ve been missing his beautiful vocabulary.”

“Oh, well he’s uh…” I trailed off as I looked around the room. “Um, well he was here…somewhere.” I twisted myself around and still didn’t catch a glimpse.

“Do you want us to help find him?” Francis asked.

“Um, it’s okay,” I replied a bit confused. “Let me just go ask Feli if he’s seen him.”

I left Gilbert and Francis to debate over Gupta’s drawing, and I spotted Feli holding hands with Ludwig across the room.

“Feli,” I called as I strolled up to him. “Have you seen Lovi anywhere?”

Feliciano brought his free hand up to his face and curled his fingers under his chin.

“Um, I haven’t seen him for a while actually. He was with me, and then I found Luddy,” Feli paused to look at Ludwig happily. “And then I’m not sure.”

I didn’t reply, and just crossed my arms in thought. When was the last time I saw him?

“Maybe he left.”

I looked at Feli and waited for him to elaborate.

“Well, he didn’t really want to come in the first place. I know he’s been dreading it for days, so maybe he just left early,” Feli shrugged his shoulders, and something hit me.

 _He left early_. Just like that time he left sculpture early. And this place: all of the people and the stress…could he be –

“Feli,” I said quickly and tried to ignored how rapid my heartbeat had become. “I need the keys to your apartment.”

“What? Why?” Feli asked confused and let go of Ludwig’s hand to step closer to me.

“I think Lovino might be a home. Alone.”

It took another moment for Feli to understand what I meant – I didn’t want to say anything too explicit in front of Ludwig, so I had to infer it with my choice of words.

When he recognized what I meant however, I saw the blood drain from Feli’s face and Ludwig looked at him worriedly.

Feli found his voice and quickly replied, “I don’t carry my keys. I just leave them at the front desk.”

I already started moving towards the door, and as I backed away I yelled, “Just call and tell them I’ll be picking them up!”

I turned around, and as I pushed the door open, I heard Feli shout in a distinctly worried voice, “Text me when you’ve found him, okay?”

I will. If I remember, I definitely will.

Right now my mind is racing just as fast as my heart, so it’s possible that all of that will be a blur.

What happened to Lovi? I just want to know.

Could he really be in trouble? I thought he was happy this week. I thought he was fine. I know I didn’t see him much today, but I didn’t think…I mean, Feli said he quit. So he _should_ be fine.

When I get to the apartment, he’ll probably just be lying on the couch and watching TV. Maybe he’ll be cooking.

I stopped thinking for a moment as I hailed a taxi, and was quick to slam the door behind me and give directions to the driver.

Then my mind turned on again.

No. I can’t be naïve. Feli knew something was wrong, I knew something was wrong. The minute I couldn’t find Lovi I felt it in my heart that something was obviously, most definitely wrong.

But depending on how I find him, I don’t think I can pretend not to know anymore. I just can’t.

 

~

 

(Lovino’s POV)

 

 

 

As soon as I entered the apartment, I collapsed onto the couch. I didn't even have the energy to walk to my room.

This is the worst I've felt in a long time, which is so strange because it's after the best I've felt in such a long time.

But the crowds…I can't handle it. I've never been able to handle it; I've always been out of place. Feli is so social: he'll talk to every person, and every person will want to talk to him. I know he tries to include me in his conversations with other people, but I'm too shy and too goddamn afraid to say anything. And if I do say something, it's always wrong, and I end up getting angry and even more upset.

I thought maybe I could just hang out with Antonio and ignore everyone else, but I forgot that he's just like Feli. There's something about him that people flock to: he makes people happy. He makes me happy, but I can't have him all to myself.

I'm reminded once again how useless and terrible I am with people. It makes me feel so alone.

And that loneliness is suffocating; that's why I had to leave.

But lying on the couch isn't helping me. My heart hurts and it feels like gravity is pushing me further and further inside of my head. I can't take it. I have to do something to fix this.

Instinctively, I reached for my wallet in my pant pocket; but then I remembered I emptied it of my blades. So I have to go to my room.

I rolled myself off of the couch, and somehow stumbled to my feet and started walking.

It's so quiet. All I can hear are my thoughts, my emotions, _my anger_. And all of that is blocking my eyes. It's like I have tunnel vision – I can only see directly in front of me.

The door.

I opened it and slowly went inside, managing to shut the door with a kick of my shoe.

Now my breathing came faster.

Quickly, I pulled off my blazer and dropped it to the floor. Then I worked on unbuttoning my shirt, which took an infuriatingly long time, and threw it on my bed.

As I basically sprinted to the bathroom, I felt all of my resistance crumbling; all of my willpower was fading away.

But I knew it wouldn't have lasted long anyway.

I closed the door behind me, and didn't bother to lock it. No one would be home for hours – actually, Feli may not even come home.

So I moved rapidly across the tile floors, and hunted for the blade I tossed earlier today. I caught the glint near the bathtub and picked it up.

There's nothing to stop me. Right now, I don't give a fuck about Feli, I don't give a fuck about Antonio; they're not here, they don't have to know anything. I need this.

I looked over my stomach and arms and I wondered where to cut. I looked at the skin on my left arm and eyed a perfect patch I hadn't touched. There's something about seeing unscarred skin that makes me want to ruin it. I just want it to look as broken as the rest of me.

It's been a long time since I've cut my arm; it's so much thinner and more dangerous than the other areas I've been cutting. But it's the best relief, and I miss it.

So I pressed the blade down in the middle of my forearm – fairly sure of how deep I'll go – and slowly pulled it across. The skin split open easily, and after a moment, the pretty white flesh underneath was filling with blood.

Of course, that wasn't enough. I still couldn't breath, I still couldn't see; I had to do more.

I dragged the blade across the skin parallel to it, again and again and again, as I crept nearer to my wrist. Each time I dug a little deeper and savored the sting, but that was only for a moment, and then I was back to watching blood drip.

At this point my wrist was hurting like crazy, and I wondered if maybe I cut it just this once, if that pain would go away.

I brought the blade to my wrist and looked at the skin. Most of it's pretty scarred, with a few scars overlapping old ones. But I managed to find a spot, and I pressed the sharp edge down. Then I gritted my teeth and carefully sliced through the delicate skin.

It stings, it bleeds, and that tingling sensation in my wrist fades away, so for a full minute I'm absolutely content.

But I didn't stop.

I cut my wrist three more times; each time fairly shallow. I'm still too afraid of cutting there.

But I needed to cut more.

So I switched the blade to my left hand and I operated on my right arm. Part of me wanted to cut my thighs – I can go much deeper there – but it takes time to undress, and I needed relief now.

I had to be careful and more deliberate with the blade since I wasn't left-handed, but it's not as complicated as drawing. I only have to know how deep to press and how long to drag. Simple.

One, two, three, four and I wondered if I should stop.

Stopping was always the hardest part. Once you've started, it's so easy to keep going. But somehow, as soon as I made my arms even, I dropped the blade.

My mind was finally free. I could breathe again. Everything's fine.

I didn't look at my arms, and just let them hang at my sides as I closed my eyes. I just wanted to savor this perfect moment. Looking at what I've done will bring me back to reality, with all of the shame and guilt, and I don't need that now.

Since I was tired of sitting on cold floors, I got up and wandered out of the bathroom. Out of habit, I went into my closet and grabbed a dark green hoodie; and slowly eased myself into it while managing to avoid irritating the cuts.

Then I walked to my bed and fell on top of it, not even bothering to kick off my shoes.

My eyes blinked slowly and I stared straight ahead at nothing.

Some part of me wondered if I should clean my arms, but really, I'm too tired to give a damn about that. Besides, I kind of like feeling the blood drip down my arm.

_Ding_

I heard the noise, but I didn't move a muscle. I don't give a shit about my phone right now.

A few minutes later – or seconds or hours, I can't really tell – the phone _ding_ -ed again. I took a deep, frustrated breath and turned over on my back.

I reached in my pocket and pulled out my phone, but didn't bother to check the messages before I let it slip through my fingers and hit the floor. No fucking way I'm talking to anyone right now. I don't care how great the art show is; I'm not going back.

My eyes lazily watched the fan spin and I tried to focus on the pain.

_DING DONG_

That wasn't my phone.

Normally, the obnoxious doorbell would send me flying off the bed, but with the way I am now, I just blinked in confusion.

Who the fuck would come by?

_DING DONG_

This time I groaned, and curled on my side as I pressed my hands to my ears.

I don't care who it is. I just want them to go away. Just please go away. _Please, please, please_ –

I heard the hard slam of the front door and my eyes shot open.

Someone's here.

Could it be Feli? No, he wouldn't have rung the doorbell. Or maybe he would've if he thought he forgot his key? But he always leaves his key at the front desk, so that doesn't make any sense.

"Lovi?"

My eyes shot open and I stared at my closed bedroom door. That voice: it sounded like…Antonio.

 _No, no, no, no, no._ He can't be here. He can't be inside my apartment. He can't be outside my fucking door. How the fuck would he even get in here?

I heard a soft knock at the door, and I immediately tucked my arms as close to my chest as possible.

Why the fuck didn't I get my arms cleaned up? God, I'm so stupid –

"Lovi, it's me. May I come in," Antonio asked calmly.

I didn't say anything. I couldn't. What would I even say?

So instead I made sure my arms were as close to my body as possible, and out of reach; and I closed my eyes. It's the dumbest trick in the book, but I can't do anything else at this point, can I?

Quietly, I heard him open the door, and I tried desperately to keep my breathing slow and long.

I followed his footsteps with my ears, and I knew, after the distinct crack of his knees, that he was beside my bed. Against all better judgment, I clenched my jaw and opened my eyes.

Antonio, like always was smiling. His green eyes sparkled gently, and I remembered all at once how comforting just the sight of him could be.

" _Hola, mi amor_ ," He said softly and tucked some of my stray hair behind my ears. "How are you doing?"

I pressed my lips together and looked at him.

"Fine," I heard myself say and I wondered at how weak my voice sounded.

Antonio kept smiling, but I saw his eyes tense slightly with concern.

"Why did you leave like that? I was worried about you," He said and he kept petting my hair.

"…I don't like crowds," I muttered and tried to keep my hands still. My sleeves felt damp.

"Are you okay?" Antonio asked and I noticed his other hand gripped the mattress tightly.

"Just tired," I replied quickly and looked away from his face.

Antonio didn't say anything to that, but he pulled back his hand and started moving.

I glanced back at him and saw him moving towards me again, but this time it looked like he was trying to –

"Hey! What the fuck do you're doing, bastard?" I yelled and tried to wiggle out of his arms, but he continued scooping me up bridal style. "Hey! Are you even listening? I said put me down you bast –" My breath caught in my throat when I felt my sleeves fall down, and I hurriedly pulled them back up and gripped the fabric with my fingers.

I looked up, but it didn't seem as though Antonio noticed; he was busy sitting down on the bed and fixing me in his lap. I didn't struggle anymore. I was too worried about letting my sleeves fall again.

Damn it, why didn't I get my arms cleaned up?

"Lovino," Antonio began and my eyes widened at the tone of his voice. He sounded serious. "Are you really okay?"

Why would he ask that? Does he know? Could he know?

"Y-yeah, I'm just tired," I said, and clenched my sleeves tighter.

"No, you're not. What's wrong?" He asked and his green eyes were hard.

I inhaled and tried to keep my gaze steady.

"Nothing, I told you I was just tir –"

"You're lying," Antonio interrupted and he tightened his grip of my shoulders. "Tell me what's wrong. Please."

Now I was starting to get frustrated, and I knitted my eyebrows together to glare at him.

"I already told you."

"No, you didn't!" Antonio shouted, and I winced slightly.

He stared at me, and although I was a bit intimidated, I just bit the inside of my cheek and kept my eyes steady.

Antonio didn't break eye contact, but the longer we stared at each other, the sadder his eyes got, until finally he closed them and sighed.

"Lovino," He repeated, and I squinted at the tone of his voice. "I didn't want to ask you this, because I was hoping at some point maybe you would tell me, but…"

My heart stopped.

"Those scars on your arm…did you do those yourself?" Antonio asked and opened his eyes.

His green eyes weren't sparkling anymore. They were dark and they seemed sad.

But how could he be sad? I hurt myself, not him. Doesn't he see that? I wasn't trying to hurt him at all. I tried time and time again to push him away so he wouldn't figure it out. I didn't want him to know this or me.

"Lovino," Antonio's voice brought me back to the present, and I felt him shake me slightly. "It's okay, just tell me."

I wanted to lie. I was going to lie. Lying was my instinct; it came natural.

But somehow, Antonio's desperate green eyes – pleading me to tell the truth – conquered me and I couldn't help but whisper a faint, "Yes."

I watched his face carefully when I said it, but it didn't change much. He closed his eyes and sighed, then he pulled me closer to his chest so he could hug me. I felt him rub my back soothingly as if I were crying and then I wondered if I should be crying.

Antonio knows. He knows now, after I've dreaded it for so long.

But I'm too stunned to cry, or maybe I'm still too focused on my cuts to realize I want to.

"How long?"

 _How long? How long?_ Why is that always the first thing they ask?

"W-what?" I replied and narrowed my eyes at the waver in my voice.

Antonio pulled back slightly, so that he could look into my eyes again, and he asked, "How long have you been doing it?"

"I – I," My voice keeps stuttering, but it's because I don't know how to answer. Does he mean the cutting, or the self-harm in general? What would be the right answer? Without knowing, I managed to say, "Two years."

" _Two years_?" Antonio repeated and his eyes shimmered. "Why?"

"Um, it's…complicated," I finished tiredly.

There was never one reason. I've done it for everything. Stress, anger, sadness, boredom…sometimes I do it because it's the only way I can get myself to move.

Antonio doesn't press me though, and instead he just kissed my forehead and held me against his chest.

"I'm sorry," I said automatically.

"Don't apologize, Lovino. Please don't," Antonio replied quickly and I heard the clipped emotion in his voice.

He didn't want me to know how sad he was.

"Can I ask you one more thing," Antonio continued and my body stiffened in his arms. With another breath, he asked, "Did you do it today?"

"No," I said too quickly and Antonio lifted my chin up to look at him.

He took a minute just staring at me and caressing my cheek, and then his expression softened.

"You have, haven't you?"

"No."

Antonio brushed my hair away from my face and smiled reassuringly. "It's okay, you don't need to lie. I can help."

At this point, I was all too aware of how damp the fabric of my sleeves were, and I wondered if I could somehow escape to the bathroom and take care of it without him seeing.

Antonio wasn't holding my shoulders or back anymore, and I thought rapidly if I could escape to the bathroom before he could catch me. Maybe…?

So in a split-second decision, I dove out of Antonio's lap and across the bed, but I didn't get too far before Antonio managed to seize my left arm.

"Lovino, please don't runaway. I just want to –"

"Let go," I ordered through clenched teeth.

"What?" Antonio asked, clearly confused.

"Let go of my arm," I repeated, but he didn't budge. Then reluctantly, I added, "It hurts."

Immediately, Antonio released his hand and began apologizing, "Oh, _lo siento_ , Lovi. I didn't know. I – you're bleeding."

I wanted to say _well no shit_ , but for once I managed to hold my tongue.

Instead, I turned around to face Antonio, and saw him staring at his palm, and the red-stained skin. He looked at me again, and I thought he might start crying, his eyes looked so…hurt.

But in a blink, that expression was gone, and he looked determined and serious again.

"Give me your arm," He said and held his hand out expectantly.

"Why?" I asked dumbly and kept my arm close to my chest.

"I want to clean it."

"I can do that myself," I replied and shuffled towards the edge of the bed.

"Antonio grabbed my right arm this time ad pleaded, "Lovino, I want to help you. _Please_."

I couldn't face him. I didn't want to look in his eyes anymore.

"I'm not going to let you go until you say yes," He added and I could hear the desperation in his voice.

I didn't want to tell him that it hurt my right arm just as much, so I just nodded and stood up slowly from the bed. He followed me closely as I walked to the bathroom, and I kept fidgeting with the ends of my sleeves.

He moved ahead of me so he could be the first to reach my cabinet – I guess he knew where I kept my supplies – and I just stood numbly behind him.

I looked around the bathroom and wondered if I might as well sit down. It doesn't seem like I'm getting out of this. So I wandered over to the marble next to the bathtub and found a place.

Antonio walked back to me with antiseptic, cotton pads and Band-aids, and set them down next to me. Then he kneeled down in front of me and extended his hand.

But something else caught my attention.

"Lovino?" Antonio asked, and he turned in the direction I was looking.

I should've called him back or something, but I didn't think that fast, and it was too late when he saw my blade glinting on the floor.

Antonio moved his arm to pick it up, and I blurted, "Be careful."

His eyes snapped back to me.

" _Be careful_?" He replied darkly and picked up the blade. He turned it over once in his fingers and sighed. The brief anger drained from his face and he seemed exhausted.

Then he sat the blade down next to the supplies, and extended his hand again.

I curled my hand nervously near my chest and mumbled, "You really don't have to."

"I want to," Antonio smiled soothingly, and I wondered what he was really feeling.

Slowly, I placed my left arm in Antonio's hand, and I turned my head away when he started rolling up my sleeve.

He pushed it all the way up to my elbow and didn't say anything. Then I heard him breathe a bit loudly and I closed my eyes in anticipation. He's disappointed.

"Lovi," He said, and I opened my eyes at the crack in his voice. "I'm so sorry. It's all my fault."

I saw a few tears fall down his cheeks and he gathered my blood with the cotton pads.

"Wh-What are you talking about? I did it, not you," I said and could feel my throat tightening.

I can't watch Antonio cry. He should never cry.

"No, it's my fault. I should have been watching over you. I should have made you happier," He shook his head and a few more tears escaped his eyes.

"You did make me happy!" I protested and now my voice was cracking. Antonio looked up at me and I continued, "It's not your fault Antonio. I've always been like this. I just get…sad sometimes and I can't find a way out of it."

 _Except for cutting_ , I wanted to add. But it seemed as though Antonio understood what I meant without me saying it.

He looked back at my arm and ran his fingers over my old scars, and the cuts still angry and red.

"There has to be another way, Lovi," Antonio said, and he tried to be serious again.

"I haven't found one," I replied as he rubbed antiseptic over the cuts.

Antonio didn't say anything and undid the Band-aid wrappers as he waited for my skin to dry, then gently set them over my arm.

"Thanks," I muttered and tried to move my arm from his grasp.

Antonio held on though, and he traced his fingers over my old scars again. Lingering over the darker, more pronounced ones that raced over my wrist.

Then his grip loosened and I quickly pulled the sleeve back down.

"Give me your other arm," He said and extended his again.

I blinked at him. How did he know?

Then I glanced at my right arm and saw the dark stains contrasting against the green.

Antonio didn't wait for me, and gently grabbed my hand to pull my arm closer to him. Then he followed the same process as before, and pushed up the sleeve before cleaning it and covering it in Band-aids.

At some point he stopped and said, "Lovino, I think this one might need stitches."

I scanned it and replied calmly, "No, it's fine. Just put a Band-aid on it."

"Are you sure?"

Antonio looked at me worriedly, and I turned away. I didn't want to say I've cut deeper than that and not needed stitches.

"Yeah…I'm sure."

After a moment I felt Antonio press Band-aid against my skin and I habitually rolled my sleeve down to cover everything.

"Lovi," Antonio said quietly and cupped my face in both of hands. "Will you let me help you? I can try to help you stop."

"I'm already trying to stop," I replied defensively and clenched my fists.

I had stopped. For a while. For a month, actually. I went back to my habit of clawing and scratching my arms instead of cutting, but that was much better than before.

But then something happens, like something always happens, and before I knew it I was at the store shopping for new blades and Band-aids. And I'm never sad that I am; the fucked up part is that I'm always a little bit excited.

"That's good, _mi amor_ ," Antonio smiled, and I wondered briefly how hard it was for him to act like this. "I can help you. I'll do anything."

I stared at him and kept quiet.

"I'll cook you breakfasts of churros and hot chocolate," He said and I pursed my lips. "I'll sing you every Spanish song I know, and even steal Gilbert's band to help me out."

I rolled my eyes and he dropped his hands from my face.

"I'll kiss you good morning and good night. I'll bring you a bouquet of roses every afternoon…or a dozen tomatoes if you prefer," He winked at me and I bit my lip.

"I'll hug you whenever you're sad and listen to everything you have to say. And if you don't want to say anything, I'll just hum and pet your hair."

I laughed shortly and replied, "It sounds like you want to treat me like your kid."

"Is that a bad thing?" He asked with a curious smile on his lips.

"I don't want to be your fucking kid," I muttered and felt a long absent blush creep across my cheeks.

"Ah, there he is! There's my _tomatito_!" Antonio sang as he poked my cheeks.

"Damn it, I'm not your fucking tomato either!" I raised my voice and swatted his hand away.

That didn't seem to bother him much though, because Antonio just kept grinning, and a new emotion changed his eyes.

"You're right," He said and I reddened more when I made eye contact with him. "You're not my child, and you're not my tomato. But Lovino, I love you more than anything else in the world. And I would do anything to protect you and keep you happy."

I couldn't say anything; I didn't know what to say. I didn't think I would ever mean so much to anyone, least of all Antonio.

"Anything?" I muttered quietly and stared at Antonio.

He smiled and moved closer. Once he was inches away from my face he whispered, "Absolutely anything."

Then gently, he pressed his lips to mine, and I could feel tears beginning to trail down my cheeks. I kissed back slightly, but when my tears turned into full out cries, I broke the kiss and buried my face in his shirt. He wrapped his arms around me and I finally felt safe to cry.

"I'm so sorry, Antonio. I'm so sorry," I said into his shirt, and gripped the fabric tightly.

"It's okay, Lovino. You don't need to apologize. Things will get better, I promise," He whispered reassuringly and held the back of my head.

"I – I didn't want to hurt you."

"I know."

"I didn't want you to get close to me."

"I know."

"I didn't want you to find out."

"I know," He replied and rested his head near my ear. "But I fell in love with you Lovino, and nothing could stop me after that."

Me eyes stung and I couldn't remember the last time I've cried like this. I couldn't let myself cry like this. But somehow, with Antonio, it feels okay. There was finally someone who could handle me and my messed up problems – and more importantly, someone who wanted to.

Antonio kept whispering sweet nothings in my ear, and I barely paid attention to them. It didn't matter what he said, I just needed to hear his voice. I just needed to hold onto him.

I don't think I've ever told him how much I love him though. I thought that if I told him he would try to get closer and that was the last thing I wanted.

But now…

" _T-ti amo_ , Antonio," I muttered softly.

I was unsure of whether he heard me or not, but then I felt him tighten his grip of me and suddenly I was lifted into the air.

"H-hey! What the fuck you bastard? I yelled, but Antonio just kept swinging me around.

"Oh, I knew it! I knew it!" He sand and my heart fluttered at the happiness in his Spanish accent.

"Knew what? And will you please stop swinging me around like I'm some damn stuffed animal?" I shouted again, and Antonio dropped me to the ground in front of him.

"I knew you'd say it eventually," Antonio grinned, and he mussed my hair.

"Yeah right," I said sarcastically and crossed my arms.

"No I knew it! I knew my Spanish charm would get you eventually," Antonio winked and I started walking out of the bathroom. "Hey, where are you going?"

"I'm hungry and I want to change clothes," I said matter of fact as I wiped my eyes dry. Then I noticed Antonio skipped beside me.

"Do you feel better?" He asked with a small smile.

My face flushed slightly, and I managed a soft, "Yeah."

Once we were in my room though, Antonio just lingered near me as if he were afraid I was going to burst into tears again, or do something worse. But I didn't want to change in front of him; I'm not ready to show him everything I've done.

"Um, I'm going to change," I said awkwardly and Antonio nodded.

"Yeah, I know," He replied and sat down on my bed.

"I'm going to change in my closet then." I turned my face away, and prayed to God I didn't have to explain why.

"Oh, okay," Antonio said and he got up from the bed. He walked over to me and asked, "Do you want me to make you something to eat then?"

"Sure," I muttered and kept my gaze away.

Without me seeing it, I felt Antonio press a soft kiss to my cheek. I turned to look at him and he didn't say anything, but his gentle eyes soothed me a bit. And then he quietly left the room.

I pressed the backs of my hands to my cheeks and tried to cool my face.

Well, this is pretty normal. Maybe I'll get back there eventually.

Then I took my bloodstained hoodie off and looked in the mirror.

I sighed.

 _Maybe_ I'll get there.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, and I made it.
> 
> I wrote two alternate chapters for this, each of them slightly different. But I ended up choosing this one because it seemed more in character for Lovino. Hopefully I chose right. I also hope these three chapters didn't come out as rushed. I try really hard to keep everything slow, but it's not easy.
> 
> The story isn't over yet, if some of you might be wondering. There'll still be a few more chapters before I bring it to a close.
> 
> Anyway, I'd also like to give another big, warm thank you to all of you readers/kudos-ers/and commenters! You've really made this fic worth worth writing (geez I'm making it sound like it's the end). There really is more, I promise!
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed these intense three chapters - I'm going to take a nap now - but I'd love to hear what you all have to say about this important arc :) I love reading comments.
> 
> Til next time :D


	15. The Gate, Hans Hoffman, 1959-1960. Oil on canvas.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now they have to deal with the aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can bet that whenever a chapter takes longer than three days, it's because I'm struggling with Antonio's POV. It's always for that reason.
> 
> But anyway, thanks for all of your support :) Sorry for the wait.
> 
> TW for references of self harm.

(Antonio’s POV)

 

 

 

Me (SENT 8:27pm): _hola feli! i found Lovi and he’s fine :)_  

Feli (SENT 8:28pm): REALLY?? Oh, grazie Toni!! Grazie tanto!!  
Feli (SENT 8:28pm): I hate to ask another favor, but do you think you can keep Lovi company tonight?

Me (SENT 8:29pm): _of course! that’s no problem at all. have fun with Ludwig ;D_

Feli (SENT 8:29pm): Vee~ I will!! Say hi to Lovi for me!

 

~

 

I smiled slightly at my phone before setting it down on the marble countertop. I figured I didn’t need to tell Feli what happened. One person knowing is enough, and I’m also fairly certain Lovi would kill me if I told him.

 _Oh, Lovi_.

I don’t think I could leave even if Feli were coming back. Not after everything that just happened.

Every time I close my eyes I see his arms; I see what he did to them, and I don’t understand. What is it that makes him do it? I wish he would explain it to me. Maybe then I could help, because I _need_ to help him. Lovi looked so small and afraid when I found him, and that’s not the way he should be.

Lovino should always be cursing and yelling and full of life. That’s the way he was meant to be.

But what can I do if he doesn’t talk to me? Even after everything that just happened, there’s only so much I can do.  Maybe I can convince him to open up to me? Is that possible?

Suddenly I heard Lovi’s bedroom door open, and I threw myself into the fridge to pretend I was busy trying to figure out what to make.

When I heard his soft footsteps approach the kitchen, I poked my head out and asked enthusiastically, “What would you like for dinner, _mi amor_?”

Lovino stared at me wide-eyed and in turn, I looked at the new long-sleeve Azzurri soccer shirt and sweatpants he’d chosen to wear. He looked so –

“You look so cute!” I exclaimed automatically, and Lovino flushed red.

“Shut the fuck up, bastard!” Lovino shouted and quickly stalked past me to sit on one of the barstools.

I followed him to the counter and leaned closer to him.

“So, what do you want?” I asked, and watched him fidget with his sleeves.

“Just…something with tomatoes,” He said, and kept his gaze down.

I smiled and announced playfully, “Tomatoes for _mi tomate_ coming right up.”

I caught Lovino’s glare for a second before I turned towards the fridge, and then I set to work on deciding a dish.

“Lovi?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you have the ingredients for tomato soup?” I asked and started opening drawers.

“What does it look like? Feli basically buys the entire grocery store every time we go shopping,” Lovino replied, and I laughed lightly.

“Ah, I guess I can see that,” I commented when I found basil and tomatoes stacked neatly in the vegetable drawer.

“Although lately he’s been buying a lot of baking supplies. I’m worried the potato bastard is having a bad effect on him.”

I scooped the ingredients up with my hands and carried them to the cutting board.

“Do you think so?” I replied smiling – secretly very happy that Lovino was talking as much as he was.

“Well, you tell me. Did you see the crap that was in out fridge? Strudel, bundt cake, pie, macaroons, _éclairs_ ,” Lovino trailed off ominously. “The only redeeming thing he made was tiramisu.”

“Hmm, maybe it’s just the effect of _amor_ ,” I said and grinned lovingly at him.

Lovino just reddened even darker and muttered, “Don’t look at me when you talk about their stupid relationship.”

I chuckled and went back to chopping the tomatoes.

For a while, Lovino was very quiet, and I assumed he was just watching me prepare the soup. After I poured the hot stock into the pot with the tomatoes, I set the timer and leaned against the counter. I met Lovino’s eyes for half a second, but he quickly flicked his eyes back to his hands and kept quiet.

He kept lacing and unlacing his fingers, and I could tell he wanted to say something. But since it was obviously intimidating him, I turned back to the pot and started stirring to give him his time.

A few minutes later, Lovino piped up and said, “Um, A-Antonio?”

“Yes?”

“Back there, um, you said that you were – waiting for me to tell you about…everything.”

I stopped stirring to listen.

“So, h-how long have you known?” Lovino asked hesitantly, and I turned around slightly to look at him. Lovino still kept his gaze to the counter, but now he was gripping his forearms tightly in his hands.

“A few weeks,” I replied, and Lovino’s eyes shot up to meet mine.

“ _A few weeks?_ ”

“Yeah,” I nodded and left the pot to walk towards him. Once I was by the counter I leaned over and said, “I didn’t say anything because I thought you might get scared and run away from me. I thought maybe you’d tell me when you were ready.”

Lovino’s gold-brown eyes darted over my face as if he was trying to understand what I was saying.

“I also thought – well, actually Feli told me – that you already quit. So, I’d hoped maybe it wasn’t as urgent,” I confessed honestly and grasped one of Lovino’s hands. They’re always so cold.

“I did quit for a while,” He said quietly and looked away again. Then something occurred to him and his eyes flashed back to mine desperately. “But don’t tell Feli about this. He can’t know I messed up.”

“I won’t,” I reassured him, and squeezed his hand. “As long as you let me help you, I won’t have a reason to.”

Lovino pressed his lips together and looked down.

“So, you don’t think I’m…disgusting or anything, do you?” He asked even more softly, and he curled his free fingers into his palm.

“No! No, _mi amor_. Of course I don’t think that,” I said loudly, and pulled his hand closer to me. “I just know you’re in pain, and I can’t stand to see you like that.”

Lovino breathed out, and I wondered for how long he was holding his breath.

Then, without looking at me, he muttered, “You should probably go check on your soup.”

“Oh.” I dropped his hand and hurried back to the pot.

As I started stirring and adding new ingredients I heard the barstool screech against the floor, and I peered over my shoulder to see Lovi wandering to the couch. He settled against the armrest, and turned on the TV; and I went back to working on the soup.

 

~

 

“Lovi, it’s ready!”

He didn’t move a muscle, and I wondered if he heard me.

“Um, Lovi? It’s ready!” I yelled again and stared hard at his curled figure on the couch.

He still didn’t move, so I walked over to check on him. His eyes were closed and his face slightly flushed and he took deep, long breaths.

I poked him and whispered, “Lovi~ Are you asleep? Dinner’s ready.”

His lips twitched, and without opening his eyes he said, “I was trying to sleep.”

“Aw, but I made you dinner,” I whined and nudged his arm again.

Lovino slowly cracked his eyes open to glare at me. “I was almost asleep.”

“But I made you dinner,” I pouted and tugged his arm off of the couch.

He sighed and closed his eyes again, but as Lovi did so, he was already sliding off of the couch. I grinned in triumph and led him to the kitchen.

I set our places across from each other on the marble island, since I thought two people might have been too small for Lovi’s impressive dining room table. He didn’t say anything about it, and simply pulled out his barstool from before and sat down. I watched him from my side of the counter as he picked up his spoon and dipped in the soup to taste it.

After a quick sip he pulled back and yelped, “Shit – it’s hot!”

“Oh, well, it is soup,” I replied a bit disappointed. I thought he would say something about the flavor.

“You didn’t tell me it was scalding!” He snapped as he blew on the soup.

“ _Lo siento_ ,” I mumbled and began blowing on my own bowl.

After a minute, Lovi worked up his courage again and he tentatively took taste of the soup.

He pulled back and blurted offhand, “It’s good.”

“Really?” I asked and leaned far over the table.

Lovi moved back at once and flicked his eyes to the side.

As he tried to fight a blush he muttered, “Yeah, yeah, it’s fine. Just calm down already.”

He pushed me back, and I happily began my own soup.

“What time is it?” He asked, and I pulled my phone from my pocket to check.

“Um, it’s like…nine fifteen,” I reported simply and locked my screen again.

Lovino stared at me and said, “Shouldn’t you be getting home or something?”

“Oh, I was going to spend the night,” I replied awkwardly. When I saw Lovino’s eyebrows go down I quickly added, “Feli asked me too! But I also thought maybe it would best if I stayed over. Um, if it’s okay with you that is.”

Lovino’s face was an adorable scarlet shade of red, and it took all of my willpower not to point it out and croon about how cute he was.

Eventually, he clenched his jaw and muttered, “It’s fine.” Before I could smile he pointed his finger at me and added, “But next time, you’re not inviting yourself over.”

I grinned anyway and said, “As long as there’s a next time.”

Lovino didn’t say anything, and just gripped the spoon tighter as he took an extra loud slurp of soup.

The longer we stayed silent and ate, the more I wondered if I should be the one to say something about how I can help his problem. I wanted to suggest some things, but I didn’t know how Lovi would take it.

Although, when he likes what he’s eating, Lovi’s in as good a mood as he’ll ever be, so I might as well blurt it out now.

“Ah, Lovi?”

He opened his eyes in acknowledgement as he brought the spoon to his mouth and waited for me to continue.

“I was wondering, um, if maybe it would help if I took your,” My voice trailed off as I frantically searched for a better word. I couldn’t think of any and ended up finishing, “If I took your…blades away.”

Lovino lowered the spoon and shifted his gaze to the side.

“I’m not sure,” He mumbled and bit his lip. “I – I think I’d feel nervous without them.”

That statement made _me_ feel nervous and I quickly jumped in to persuade him.

“But you’d still have me! You could call or try to find me whenever you feel like you need to,” I pressed and searched his face for any sort of answer. “And if for some reason you couldn’t reach me, you could also try to draw or paint and that would distract you.”

Lovi didn’t say anything.

“Please Lovi. It would mean a lot to me if you tried,” I pleaded earnestly, and his eyes finally flicked to mine.

They shimmered for a moment and he looked away again.

“Fine,” He said.

I breathed a sigh of relief. Although it was painfully obvious to me that Lovi could really use anything with a sharp edge, if I at least knew he didn’t have those thin, precise blades, I might feel better. Maybe it would at least make it harder for him to cut if he had the urge, and that would encourage him to come to me.

Hopefully anyway.

 

~

 

After dinner, Lovi left the kitchen and went straight to his bedroom. I wasn’t sure if he was going to bed or if he just needed to get away for a bit, but I decided to leave him be and focus on cleaning the kitchen before I’d check on him.

As I was scrubbing the pot however, I heard his light footsteps echoing down the hall, and I looked over my shoulder to see him drop something on the counter.

“What’s that?” I asked, and put the pot down to dry my hands.

Lovi crossed his arms and looked up at me nervously.

“It’s what you wanted,” He muttered and turned on his heel back towards his bedroom.

“Wait,” I called after him as I hurried to the counter to see what he left. I would’ve said something more, but when I saw the little box of wound closures my voice died in my throat.

Tentatively, I picked up the frail white box, and opened it. I looked inside, but I didn’t understand what it was so I turned it upside down and a strange, thick silver rectangle fell onto my palm.

My heartbeat seemed to echo louder in my head as I read the plain black words:

_Double Edge Stainless Steel Blades_

It made me sick because it seemed so simple and so efficient as a device: you just have to push down and slide the blade out. I wondered how many times he did this. I wondered how many of these he went through. I almost dropped the blades when I wondered how many times he’d done this since I’ve met him.

I glanced down at the evil silver glint and I briefly considered throwing it against the wall. But I thought better of it, and instead walked over to the trashcan, and buried it towards the very bottom so Feli or Lovi couldn’t see it.

Now the image of Lovi’s arms crept back into my mind and I started imagining how he did it to himself. It broke my heart, but it also just made me more and more confused. How did this help him? I don’t understand how hurting himself made him feel better.

I could feel my breath quickening, and my throat tightening as I remembered the blood that dripped down Lovi’s arm, and the delicate, light scars that littered over his skin. Now everything just seemed too real all of a sudden; it was so much more manageable when I thought it was a problem from his past.

I put the silverware and dishes back in their place very slowly as I tried to get a grip of myself. I already cried once, I can’t do it again. I have to help Lovino, and having him comfort me wouldn’t do anything but stress him.

Once I was finished, I took a deep breath and started walking towards Lovi’s room.

I knocked on the door once and waited for a response.

“Just come in bastard.”

Hearing Lovi’s voice relaxed my face slightly, and I opened the door with a small smile.

Lovino was hunched over drafting table, and didn’t bother to lift his head as I entered.

“ _Hola_ Lovi. Are you drawing?” I asked and skipped over to his side.

His arm immediately flew over the sketch, and he glared at me.

“Haven’t I warned you about looking at my drawings?”

“Aw, how could I forget Lovi? Those were the first times I talked to you,” I said and poked him in the shoulder.

Lovi blushed, and mumbled, “Yeah, I guess.” But his arm didn’t budge, and he waited until I flopped on the bed to scratch his pencil against the paper again.

I looked up at the rapidly spinning fan and asked, “Lovi?”

His pencil stopped.

“How did Feli find out?”

Lovino sighed, and I heard his pencil move slowly.

“I told him.”

“Wait – you what? Really?” I jumped up to a sitting position and stared at him.

“Yeah,” He replied quietly.

“Why?”

“Because I – I wanted to stop. I really did. And I thought maybe if I told him, I would finally have a reason to,” He said, and he ran his hand through his hair roughly. “And like I keep telling you, I _did_ quit. For an entire month I was clean – er, clean-ish.”

“What does that mean?” I asked suspiciously, and leaned over the bed railing.

Lovino still didn’t turn to look at me, but I could hear him struggling to talk by the sound of his breathing and way he moved his pencil.

“I just…” He trailed off into a resigned sigh. “I’ve always had this habit of scratching my arms when I’m nervous, or anxious, or just angry or whatever. So I kind of fell back on that when I had to quit.”

“Scratching doesn’t sound so bad,” I said hopefully.

“Yeah,” He sighed again, like he didn’t want to say more. Then he continued, “And it worked for a while, but after a month – I don’t know. It just wasn’t enough.”

“Why didn’t you tell Feli?”

“Because he can’t handle it,” Lovi confessed in clipped emotion. “When I told him about it, he was a wreck, and then for weeks he wouldn’t look at me the same way. By the time I was cutting again, Feli had finally started smiling and laughing the way he used to. I didn’t want to bring him down again. I’m supposed to be the one taking care of him anyway. Not the other way around.”

“Oh.”

“But _I tried_ to quit again. After every time I cut, I told myself it would be the last time, and that I wouldn’t need to do it anymore, but,” He paused for a second. “I could always find a reason to go back.”

“Oh Lovi,” I whispered sadly, and stared at his curved back. “But you know you can talk to me, right? I really want you to find me if you’re in that place again.”

He didn’t say anything, and I heard the rustling of papers, and the slap of the sketchbook closing.

Then Lovino turned off the lamp hanging over his desk and got up from the chair. I watched him walk around the bed for a moment, and then I slid back against the pillows to make room for him. Of course, Lovi’s bed is so big I didn’t really need to.

For the first time in too long, his gold eyes flashed to me, and I caught the light of New York reflected in them.

“Are you really going to sleep in that?” Lovino asked and raised an eyebrow.

I looked down at my button-down shirt and jeans, and said, “Oh, well I usually don’t wear much when I sleep actually, but it’s kind of cold in here so I don’t really mind.”

Lovino blushed and looked down – I’m not sure what part of what I said embarrassed him.

“Just borrow some of my clothes bastard,” He muttered and pointed in the direction of his closet.

I started laughing automatically, which was probably a bad idea, because Lovi immediately scowled and hit me hard in the shoulder.

“Something will fit your fatass, now get in there!” Lovi ordered and pushed me towards the edge.

“Okay, okay!” I chuckled defeated, and hurried over to the closet so Lovi could calm down.

The lights turned on as soon as I stepped in, and I looked through the shelves of t-shirts for something wearable. I couldn’t help but notice that most of it was long-sleeved, and I wondered how often Lovi dared to wear short-sleeves now. I tried not to think of it for too long, but earlier, when Lovi basically asked me to leave so he could change – that probably meant Francis was right. And then I wondered if Lovi would even dare to ever take his shirt off in front of me.

Maybe one day.

Eventually, I managed to find a relatively large green t-shirt, and tried it on. It fit me pretty normally, which means it must have been quite large on Lovino.

I thought about searching for a pair of pants, but I usually sleep in boxers anyway, and I’m sure anything Lovino had would be too short, so I just decided to walk out as is.

It was dark in the room. Lovino’s bedside lamp was turned off, and the large window blinds were closed to block out the lively New York nightlife. But from the trickling light of the closet I spotted Lovino’s curled figure breathing softly on his side of the bed.

I tiptoed to the other side and slid under the covers as deftly as I could in case Lovino actually was asleep. I can’t remember whether Lovi ever said it or not, but I started to pick up that he didn’t usually sleep well. Or at least, he never seemed to sleep well when we’re apart for whatever reason. I think that’s really cute, but at the same time, I wish he was always able to sleep well.

“Antonio,” Lovi’s quiet voice rung in the air.

“ _Si_?” I responded automatically and turned over to face his back.

“Why are you still here?”

I stared at him, and took a second to try and decipher what that meant.

“What do you mean?” I asked a bit dumbfounded. I thought it was obvious by now.

Lovino sighed. “I just don’t get why you’re still here after…everything.”

“Because _te amo mi querido_ ,” I replied earnestly and reached out to brush his hair. “How could I leave you when you need me?”

Lovino turned around to face me and his eyes glittered.

“You keep saying that,” He muttered and kept his hands close to his chest.

“Because I mean it,” I smiled and wrapped my arms around him to bring him closer. “And I’ll say it as many times as I have to until you believe it too.”

The longer I held him, the more Lovino’s muscles relaxed, until eventually he willingly hugged me back, and his head rested near my neck.

“Lovino,” I said as I rubbed his back. “Do you think I’ll be able to help you?”

He didn’t stiffen like I expected him to, but I did feel his hands press against my back.

“Yeah,” He whispered. “You’ve done it already.”

“Really?” I asked, and my heart lifted.

Lovi nodded, and said, “That time I called you – when I wanted to skip school – you helped me.”

My mind hustled back to that memory, and I tried to picture everything.

“Wait, so you were about to –”

“Yeah,” He interrupted quickly and his eyelashes fluttered against my skin. “But I called you on accident and you talked me out of it.”

“Oh,” I murmured and tried to recall what I said in particular. Did I say something inspiring or something?

“And you’re music is pretty distracting too,” Lovino added, and I think I felt his face warm up.

“Is that a compliment?” I laughed lightly.

Lovi breathed a slight chuckle, and said, “What do you think?”

My grin broadened, and I held Lovi tighter in happiness.

“Lovi, you’re so sweet right now!” I cooed, and continue giggling when Lovi cursed.

“I’m just sleepy, bastard. Don’t get used to it,” He muttered.

“For some reason I didn’t expect you to be nicer when you’re sleepy.”

“I’m not if I know I can’t sleep,” Lovi clarified, and his voice already sounded much dreamier and distant.

“Oh, I see,” I observed with a smile, and stopped talking to let Lovi slowly drift off.

Even after Lovi’s breathing had steadied, and I could tell he was deep in sleep, I lied awake for a little while longer.

Two years.

It’s not fair. For two years I’ve been travelling and laughing and having fun teaching; and aside from the money, I never really had any problems. And the thought that while I was out partying with Francis and Gilbert, Lovi was hiding away in his bathroom _bleeding_ and thinking God knows what…

It makes me feel guilty, even though I know there’s nothing I could have done.

Like I said before, it’s not really the scars. It’s just the fact that every scar is a memory of his pain, his anguish; and a reminder that I wasn’t there or able to stop him. I wish I could’ve met him earlier. Maybe I could’ve changed things.

But that’s impossible.

All I can do is help the scars fade, and keep news ones from forming. And maybe I can make Lovi happier once and for all.

 

~

  

_A few days later..._

 

 

 

Once the new week rolled around again, it was sort of strange to be going back to school. It felt like so much happened over the weekend; pretending to be teacher and student again is…awkward.

I guess I just find it even weirder because even though I thought Lovi had opened up to me, and that he was finally going to start coming to me about his problems; as of Thursday, he still hasn't.

When I asked Lovi if he was doing okay just to make sure, he almost knocked his canvas over. Then he turned to me very red-faced and snapped, "I'm not some whiny bitch! Of course I'm fine!"

I apologized several times, though I knew I didn't do anything wrong – but he never let down his guard. He seemed rather embarrassed by the whole thing, and as soon as other students started rushing in, he was quick to plug in his headphones and tune me out.

Although I had to leave his desk and tour the room to give instructions to the students, I still kept an eye on him – as I always do – just to make sure he was okay. From what little I could understand of his profile, he seemed okay. I mean – Lovi always looks a bit frustrated when he's sketching, but it's his harmless anger, so I wasn't that worried. The only thing I didn't understand was when he stopped drawing to duck his hands underneath the table, and he snapped a band at his wrist.

Lovi's never done that before.

I wanted to ask him about it after class and before he left for sculpture, but as soon as I thought I had an opening, Dr. Oxenstierna appeared.

 

~

 

(Lovino's POV)

 

 

  

"Oh, Lovi look! It's the head of the department!" Feli exclaimed, and I tore my eyes away from my sketchbook to glare at him.

"What?" I asked and took out an earbud.

"Dr. Oxenstierna! Look over there, he's talking to Toni!" Feli repeated and pointed towards the direction of the door.

I looked over there and my breath hitched when I caught the tall guy staring right at me.

"Vee~ he's looking at you _fratello_!"

"Fuck – I know that!" I whispered harshly, and broke away from Dr. Oxenstierna's blue-eyed gaze to pretend I was still drawing. "What are they doing?"

Feli hummed and said, "They're just talking. Antonio's laughing and scratching his hair and Berwald is handing him something."

"Shit, do you think he's firing him?" I asked, slightly panicked, but when I tried to take a look myself Antonio had already tucked whatever it was into a folder. Then something occurred to me, and I looked back at Feli. "And who the fuck are you calling _Berwald_?"

"Oh, that's Dr. Oxenstierna's first name!" Feli smiled, and I just stared at him. "You know that fitness class Luddy teaches – well he and his husband are there a lot. They're both so cute!"

" _He's married?_ "

" _Si_! Tino – that's his husband – he owns this really nice spa. I haven't been there yet, but he gave Luddy and I discounts for a massage!"

"This is just too weird," I muttered, as I tried to imagine that tall, scary guy in a relationship with someone else.

"Aww, no it's not! You just need to get to know him," Feli insisted, and looked up thoughtfully. "Oh, do you think I should invite them to the Halloween party?"

"No," I said automatically and started stuffing my things in my messenger bag.

I'm already pissed Feli decided to throw this party; there's no way I'm letting him invite Antonio's boss. I already have to deal with the French guy and the albino and their god-knows-who dates.

"Hmm, maybe you're right. They're probably going to be taking Peter trick-or-treating anyway," Feli agreed.

"Do I even want to know who Peter is?"

"Oh, he's their adopted son, and he's really cu –"

"Fuck it. I don't even care," I interrupted and zipped close my bag. Hearing so much about that intimidating guy's family life is confusing my image of him.

I skidded my chair out from under the desk and got up. As I adjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder I chanced another look in Antonio's direction and saw him walking out with Dr. Oxenstierna, that folder in his hand. My heart sank slightly. In part, because I wanted to apologize for yelling at him earlier.

I know he's trying to be nice and shit, but when he starts asking if I'm okay it just really freaks me out. It makes me worried that he thinks I'm breakable or just…pitiful.

And of course, I know my worries are crap, and that Antonio's just a really great, fucking guy that's trying to help, but damn it, I can't control what I say sometimes.

But the fact that Dr. Oxenstierna visited him again and that he was glaring right at me: that also kind of freaks me out.

When Feli and I left the classroom and were heading down the other hall towards our sculpture class, that nervous feeling was agitating me more and more, and I was dreading having to deal with a class I couldn't care less about.

So I stopped in my tracks and turned in the other direction.

"Hey, Lovi! Where are you going?" Feli called after me.

I looked over my shoulder briefly and said, "I don't feel like it. Just tell him I'm sick." Before Feli could argue, I added, "Just consider this payback for making me cover your ass all those times."

Feli sighed, but didn't say anything else, and I rushed down the hall to find an empty studio.

Most of them seemed full, but after some odd number of peaking in the small door windows, I found one that was dark, and I quickly opened the door.

My hand searched for the light switch in the dark, and I flipped it on.

I nearly screamed when I saw a body laying flat across the table. But when I noticed the overalls and messy blond hair, I caught myself, and yelled, "Alfred? What the fuck are you doing taking a nap in here?"

He sighed, and said sadly, "What am I doing with my life?"

"Huh?"

"I don't know what I'm doing any more, man. I feel like I've lost my path," Alfred drawled and moved his hand away from his eyes. "Dang it, where's Yoda when you need him?"

"I still don't get what your problem is," I replied and took a seat at a table near him.

"It's just that – it's like I have this awesome light saber and I don't know what to do with it!" Alfred exclaimed and clenched his fists.

I frowned and kicked my shoes up on the desk.

"You keep talking as if this makes any sense," I said and snapped the hairband against my wrist.

Alfred sat up and asked, "Have you really not seen Star Wars before? Because I'm making some really sick analogies right now."

"No," I deadpanned and snapped the hairband harder.

Alfred opened his mouth, but he stopped at the noise and looked at what I was doing.

"What are you doing?" He asked, and my fingers left the hairband immediately.

"Nothing. It's just a habit," I responded quickly and fixed my sleeve down lower.

"Oh, that's funny," He said, and I looked up at him. "My brother does the same thing."

Alfred's brother.

Oh, that shy guy from the art show. But...I only do it because the sting stops me from cutting. Does that mean he's like me?

When I managed to actually focus on Alfred's expression, he seemed different. His blue eyes looked at me curiously as if he was trying to figure me out, and that's when I realized I messed up.

"I have to go," I muttered and hurriedly dropped my legs from the table and scooted out the chair.

"Wait! Lovino, I –"

The door slammed behind me, and Alfred's voice was cut off.

I kept speed-walking down the hallway, no direction in particular, but going as fast as possible until I somehow found an exit and dove outside. I was on the sidewalk, and I quickly ducked into a narrow alley to lean against the wall.

The cold October air was chilling but refreshing, and my heartbeat steadied as I watched my breath puff and fade away. Finally, I noticed I had dug my nails deep in the back of my left hand, and I hesitantly removed them to see half moons scattered across the skin.

What just happened?

Why did I freak out? It's not as if Alfred accused me of anything. Or maybe he would've if I stayed? Oh, fuck, I don't know.

Maybe I'm still a little jumpy from class.

Or maybe the week is catching up with me. It was easy to avoid cutting for a while, but now that the art show is approaching, it's like an anniversary.

What am I supposed to do? The hairband helps, but it's not actually pain. And pain is what I need.

My sleeve was rolled up and my nails prepared themselves at the bottom of my elbow, already deep in the skin, and I was ready to drag them down . It's just scratching. It's not a big deal. I've done this thousands of times, I don't need to tell Antonio. I don't need to tell him. I don't, I –

_I can help you. I'll do anything._

I flinched.

My hand slowly dropped from my arm, and I sighed.

Well, shit.

 

~

 

_Ring_

_Ring_

_Ring_

"Lovi? Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"Well, hello to you too, bastard," I said sarcastically and rolled my eyes.

"Oh, _lo siento_! Of course, I'm happy to hear from you _mi amor_! How are you?"

I closed my eyes and replied, "I'm hungry as hell, and I want to go out."

"Oh really? It's kind of early."

"What, are you too busy or something?" I asked in a tone I thought was my usual sassiness, and gritted my teeth.

"Well, no, but if you wanted to go out to dinner we could probably go someplace nicer in a few hours or –"

"Damn it, Antonio! Just get your ass out of the school _now!_ I need you!" I shouted, and hung up the phone.

 

~

 

It didn't take as long as I thought for Antonio to understood what I meant, and in only a few minutes he was jogging out the same door, his warm breath echoing into the air. 

He looked side to side a few times, but eventually the dumb bastard caught me glaring at him from my spot against the alley wall, and he jumped down the stairs.

He stopped in front of me bright-eyed and smiling, and I crossed my arms.

"Took you long enough," I complained, and started heading for the sidewalk.

Antonio laughed and skipped back to my side.

" _Lo siento, mi amor_. I didn't mean to make you wait," He said, and I looked up at his happy grin.

"What the fuck is the smile for?" I asked and narrowed my eyes at him.

"Because you called me," He replied simply, and kissed me quick on the cheek.

I blushed and pushed him away.

"Whatever," I muttered.

Antonio intertwined his fingers with mine and I bit my lip to hide my smile.

"So where are we going?" He asked.

"Um, I'm not really hungry, so maybe we can just…walk," I offered weakly.

"Of course!" Antonio squeezed my hand reassuringly and I exhaled.

"So what did Dr. Oxenstierna say?" I glanced at Antonio's face a bit worriedly.

"Oh, well," He paused and looked up. "He just needed to ask me something. It was nothing too important."

"What'd he ask?" I pressed.

Antonio chuckled nervously, and said, "Oh, it doesn't matter really. But anyway – are you excited for the art show on Saturday?"

"Is that a joke?" I glared at him, and he blinked in confusion.

"What?"

"I'm not going," I answered simply.

His eyes widened and he leaned closer.

"No, Lovi! You have to! Why wouldn't you?"

"Does last week ring a bell? There's no way I'm going back after that."

"But," Antonio eyes darted to the side nervously. "I promise I'll stay with you. Please, Lovi, you have to come."

"You can't promise that."

" _Si_ , I can," Antonio insisted and I stared at him suspiciously.

"Why do I have to go?"

Antonio's lashes fluttered, and I could tell he was searching for a lie.

"Because you have to, _mi amor_! It's – well, it's a surprise!" He smiled awkwardly, and I felt his palm sweat.

"Uhuh," I mumbled and watched him squirm for my answer. Despite my better judgment, I sighed and said, "Fine. I'll go."

"Really? Oh, _gracias mi querido_!" Antonio sang before he kissed me excitedly.

I still wasn't convinced about the whole thing, but the feeling of Antonio's soft lips against mine relaxed me; and I even forgot about the impulse throbbing in my wrist.

I hate that I'm so easily persuaded, but I think I hate that I can't help but be curious for why Antonio wants me to come even more. Damn it.

 

~

 

_Day of the second art show…_

 

For most of Saturday, I was in some sort of limbo. Since I was up late drawing the night before, I didn't wake up until eleven, and when I shuffled to the kitchen in search of food and coffee, I saw the potato bastard standing in the middle of the room in a police uniform. When he noticed I was there he stared at me wide-eyed and his face flushed a bright red.

I didn't bother to wait for his explanation, and just turned on my heel to go back to bed. Feli jumped out of his room before I could make it though, and I noticed he was carrying a large pile of clothes.

He seemed surprised to see me, but he quickly smiled and said, "Oh, _ciao_ Lovi! Luddy and I are choosing our costumes for tomorrow night. Do you want to help?"

There were dozens of curse words I could have said and even more ways I could have said them; but since Feli seemed so excited, I kept my mouth shut and just stomped back to my room. I'm being nice, damn it.

I couldn't go back to bed at that point – no matter how much I wanted to pretend that hideous sight was just a dream – so I wandered into my bathroom to take a shower.

I peeled off my long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants and dumped them in a corner, and I held my bandaged arms in front of me. I changed them once from last week, but at this point there's no need for bandages at all, so I pulled them off one by one until all of the red lines of scabs were visible.

Of course, now I wondered why I ended up doing this. Right when my arms were getting to a place that was half-way decent, I had to ruin them again. How long would it take these to fade?

I sighed, but didn't spend anymore time regretting before I walked into the shower.

 

~

 

After I was dressed – and in an outfit much simpler this time – I collapsed on my bed. I wasn't tired, but I didn't know what else to do. To distract myself, I spent all of my nights this week either drawing or painting, so I'm far ahead in all of my classes. My landscape for next week is done; and I guess the only think I could work on is my work for the last show. I started it yesterday, but my eyes were too exhausted from everything to get very far.

I could hear Feliciano's laugh echo over the hum of the air conditioning, and it reminded me how thankful I was that Antonio didn't tell him anything. Feli may be an annoying brat, but I could never let him know.

At that point however, I was tired of lying down doing nothing, and against all odds, I got up and gathered my things. I'm bored as hell, so I may as well get to the torture early. At least Antonio will be there.

After pulling on my black coat and stuffing my wallet and phone in my pockets, I left my bedroom and stormed past Feliciano and the potato bastard – this time he was in a chef's costume – and the door closed before they could say anything.

The way to the school was quick and uneventful. I'm not sure if I liked that or not. Maybe I would've preferred being delayed somehow, but it didn't happen, and before I knew it I was standing in front of the door to the show.

It wasn't open yet; it would start in twenty minutes. But the lights were on, and I caught someone moving around in the back, so I opened the door, and walked inside.

All of the work was curated and hung on the walls, but I barely looked at them, and instead wandered further in the back to find Antonio.

I peaked around the wall to see the refreshments table, and unsurprisingly, Alfred was there setting down a tray of little appetizers.

"Hey, have you seen Antonio?" I asked, and Alfred's head popped up.

"Lovino! I didn't expect you here 'til later!" Alfred laughed and let go of the tray.

I was still a bit nervous around Alfred after what happened, but since Thursday, he hasn't said anything about it, so decided to just pretend like it never happened.

"Yeah, well I was bored," I admitted and exhaled loudly to prove my point. "So where's the bastard?"

I turned around and started looking around the room again.

"Oh, wait!" Alfred shouted, and he rushed to my side in a second. "Why don't you just chill here until he gets back? I think he went to get ice from the teachers' lounge."

"I might as well see how you idiots arranged the place, right?" I said sarcastically and started my tour.

Alfred was right on my heel though and he continued, "But you can wait for him before you take a look right? He might want to explain to you what he did!"

My eyes passed over my portrait of Antonio singing in his dumb matador outfit – I had another painting that was larger and much more complete, but I switched it out for this one at the last minute. Something about how messy and happy this one was suited Antonio's personality more and I was satisfied with it.

When I noticed Alfred was still annoyingly near to me, I snapped, "What's your problem? He can explain whatever amazing strategy he had to organizing later. I just want to take a –"

My voice trailed off when a large photograph in black in white caught my eye across the room.

"What's that?" I asked as I already walked toward it.

Alfred jumped in front of me and said, "Nothing! It's nothing! Look, there's my cool painting over there!"

I rolled my eyes and shoved past him.

He seemed to give up, and he let me stand still in front of the photo.

It took me a long time to understand what it was – almost embarrassingly long. Right away, I knew there was something _familiar_ about it: the clothes, the paintbrush, the hands, the hair…But when I thought it might've been me, I caught myself.

That person couldn't be me. He was similar, but I wasn't so calm, and I definitely wasn't so – I hate myself for saying using this word – but for sure I wasn't pretty. I mean, damn it, Feliciano's the cute one. I know that. I'm fine with that. So I don't get why I seem to think that this me holding a paintbrush and staring intently at the canvas was better looking than I actually am.

"Lovino?"

I turned away from the painting to see Antonio walking into the studio and watching me with a nervous smile.

"Do you like it?" He asked and held the bucket of ice close to his chest.

"Um," I mumbled and switched glances between Antonio and the photograph. "You took a photo of me?"

"Don't you remember?" Antonio looked at me slightly amused and now I was close enough to see his green eyes sparkling.

"I mean, yeah but it," I turned back to the photo and narrowed my eyes. "It doesn't look like me."

Antonio laughed, and said, "The camera never lies, Lovi."

My face reddened, although I don't know why because I still don't believe that's what I look like, and I crossed my arms protectively.

"I told you not to put up any photos of me," I warned, though I didn't say it with any anger.

"I know _mi amor_. But you said I should submit something, and you were the most beautiful thing on my film."

" _Mio Dio_ ," I muttered and covered my face with my hands. "You need to stop saying shit like that."

Antonio laughed and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, and I couldn't decide if I was ecstatic in this moment or mortified.

" _Lovi and Toni sittin' in a tree…_ "

My hands dropped from my face and I jumped out of Antonio's arms to glare at Alfred.

"You. Shut up," I ordered, but he just laughed.

"Ah, man. I sure hope my portrait of Artie makes him swoon for me like that."

"The fuck – I wasn't swooning!" I yelled and waved my fist in his face.

"Oh, I think you were," Alfred flashed a smile and skipped to the door.

"No I wasn't!"

"Are you sure you weren't just a tiny bit?"

I twisted around to Antonio, and he had a hopeful, glint in his eyes.

My face was still burning red – I could feel it – but I was ready to deny it by any means possible. I opened my mouth to yell and lie at him, but I couldn't seem to find the words, and the longer I was silent, the broader Antonio's stupid grin got.

Eventually, I gave up and muttered, "Oh, shut up."

Antonio laughed and hugged me quickly before Alfred opened the door.

"You always make me swoon with your portraits, so I thought I should return the favor," He whispered into my ear, and I swore my face felt even hotter than before.

"Alright, Romeo and Juliet, time to give your goodbyes," Alfred called, and I quickly shoved Antonio back a foot. "And it's show time!"

Alfred pushed open the door, and slowly the line of people started to trickle in.

 

~

 

The show was actually…fine 

Antonio's idiot friends didn't come, which might've been part of the reason I liked it; and in general there were fewer people which I liked even more. Feli still brought the potato bastard, but occasionally they'd split up and Feli would talk to me. Antonio was always somewhat nearby, though in the end he still had to do a lot of introductions and talks to people – like I knew he would.

Alfred was pretty pissed again. His weird, British muse didn't show up, so he was back at the refreshments table eating his feelings. Which was also fine, because I paid attention to his strange rambles of Star Wars and art and my mind was kept light and distracted.

The few times Antonio was able to sneak away and talk to me, I was much happier of course; but even when he wasn't there, I felt like I was more in control.

It might've helped that I had a few glasses of that horrible wine, but whatever it was, I glided through the rest of the art show without snapping the hairband once.

 

~

 

Feli dragged me out of the show right as it ended – because he needed help deciding what costume he was going to wear tomorrow – so just as I was leaving Antonio was having a panicking realization that we didn't have costumes for tomorrow. I rolled my eyes at him and said we could just figure that out later, but he obviously didn't listen, and late at night I was being spammed with messages.

 

~

 

Damn Antonio (SENT 11:23pm): _what about 2 tomatoes?_

Me (SENT 11:24pm): **No**

Damn Antonio (SENT 11:24pm): _a night and a princess ;)_

Me (SENT 11:24pm): **Fuck no**

Damn Antonio (SENT 11:24pm): _2 salsa dancers!_

Me (SENT 11:25pm): **Is that really a costume? I thought they just wore weird suits**

Damn Antonio (SENT 11:25pm): _ah, but with deep vs ;) ;)_

Me (SENT 11:26pm): **Fuck no then**

Damn Antonio (SENT 11:27pm): _you're making this really hard Lovi :( we've been at this for hours_

Me (SENT 11:27pm): **No, you've been at this for hours. I'm still saying we should think about this tomorrow**

Damn Antonio (SENT 11:27pm): _but there won't be enough time!_

Me (SENT 11:28pm): **What are you planning on buying a costume tonight when/if we decide?**

Damn Antonio (SENT 11:28pm): _well when you say it like that…_ Damn Antonio (SENT 11:30pm): _how about matador and torro ;D_

Me (SENT 11:31pm): **Fuck just stop  
** Me (SENT 11:31pm): **How about I suggest an idea and we both just agree on it**

Damn Antonio (SENT 11:32pm): _what if i don't like it?_

Me (SENT 11:32pm): **You will**

Damn Antonio (SENT 11:33pm): _Okay then, what is it :D_

Me (SENT 11:33pm): **Mafia**

Damn Antonio (SENT 11:34pm): _well…is that really a costume though? oh, maybe i can be a pirate and u can be a mermaid!_

Me (SENT 11:35pm): **I'm done. Good night**

Damn Antonio (SENT 11:35pm): _awwwww Lovi….  
_ Damn Antonio (SENT 11:37pm): _well, i'll bring a pirate costume just in case alright ;)  
_ Damn Antonio (SENT 11:37pm): _buenos noches mi amor!_

 

~

 

_Morning of the Halloween Party..._

 

 

 

"Lovi~"

"Hm," I groaned and turned over to bury my face in the pillows.

"Lovi, wake up! It's me!"

"Hm."

"Lovi…"

The sound finally trailed off and I smiled at the silence. Then suddenly I felt something nudging against my side and I jumped.

My eyes shot open and I saw Feli standing beside my bed, phone pressed to his ear.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I asked, and looked at my clock. "It's fucking four in the morning!"

"Vee~ I know. _Scusa_ ," Feliciano apologized, though I could tell in his happy, sparkling eyes he didn't mean it.

"Whatever," I sighed. "Why are you here?"

"Nonno's on the phone!" He announced and my eyes widened.

"What? Why?"

"He wants to come visit us!"

I sat up in my bed and looked at him. "What?"

" _Si_! I told him he should come for our last art show! Don't you think that's a good idea?"

"Um," I breathed and stared at him. Then finally my brain kicked in and I yelled, "Wait, of course that's not a good idea! What – why would you even ask that?"

Feliciano didn't seem like he heard me, and was busy nodding and humming to nonno on the phone.

"Did you hear me? Tell him no! Tell him we'll see him for _Natale_!" I shouted and Feliciano motioned me to be quiet with his finger to his lips. "Are you _shushing_ me? Damn it, Feli! Listen to me!"

" _Si, si grazie nonno. Va bene. Ci vediamo in un paio di settimane_ ," Feli smiled and I reached for the phone. He avoided my attack, and added, " _Si, ti amo. Ciao, nonno!_ "

He lowered the phone from his ear and looked at me guiltily.

"What the fuck was that?"

"Oh, Lovi, _scusa_! But he really wanted to come, and I already told him he could before I asked you. I thought you'd say yes," Feli whined and my face grew hot in frustration.

"Why the fuck would you think that?"

"Because," Feli stopped and gripped his phone tighter. "Because he's our grandpa and he loves us! Why wouldn't you want to see him?"

"It's not that I don't want to see him! It's just that I don't want him to come to our show!" I shouted.

"But why?" Feliciano asked, and looked at me curiously.

I wanted to scream so many different things at Feli – that nonno doesn't love me as me much, that I'm too obsessed with trying to impress him, that if he comes, he'll just compare me to you _again_ …

But I couldn't.

"Nevermind," I muttered and fell back on the bed.

Feliciano didn't say anything else and left the room; and for a long while I stared numbly at the ceiling fan.

Slowly, the memories of me desperately trying to outmatch Feli came back, along with the memories of anger and frustration, and the very first time I took a blade to my skin.

I hate this.

I hate that my mind is so vulnerable. I was fine with Antonio; I was so fine I was almost convinced that I'd never need to cut again. Why do I even try to fool myself? I'm weak, and I'm addicted. I should know by now that I can't even handle a fucking family phone call without wanting to split my skin open.

Noise faded, and the fan turned slower.

 

Why didn't I give Antonio all of my blades?

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah.
> 
> Has anyone else noticed how many scenes I have with Antonio and/or Lovino sleeping? I'm obviously living vicariously through the characters, since my own sleeping habits are out of whack right now. I also feel that as this chapter went on, the transitions got loser looser and looser, so I'm really sorry about that. I was really pushing myself to finish this chapter, so it might've gotten pretty weak by the end.
> 
> Anyway, if everything goes according to my outlines, we have three chapters left. That's pretty exciting! :D
> 
> I'll try to keep these updates coming relatively fast as we come to the end; in part because I know it's better for the reader, but also because if I lose my momentum with this story, it's just so hard for me to pick it up again. So, with that said, the next update will be soon. If it takes longer than a week, please badger me. But hopefully that won't happen and I'll see you very soon!
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!


	16. Road With Cyprus and Star, Vincent Van Gogh, 1890. Oil on canvas.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Art is to console those who are broken in life." - Vincent Van Gogh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for references of self-harm.

(Antonio's POV)

 

 

 

Francis (SENT 10:15am): _Bonjour mes amis! And I'm addressing both of you because I've searched the entire apartment (including Arthur's mysterious room) and I have no idea where you are Gilbert_

Me (SENT 10:17am): _hola Francis :D what's up?_

Francis (SENT 10:17am): _Well, I just thought I'd check in and ask what costumes you two are wearing    
_Francis (SENT 10:17am): _I don't want to show up wearing the same thing obviously_

Gilbert (SENT 10:18am): **_HA your outfit will never be as awesome as mine ):^)_**

Francis (SENT 10:18am): _Ah, so you've finally decided then    
_Francis (SENT 10:18am): _Are you wearing a couples' costume with Mathieu ;)_

Gilbert (SENT 10:19am): **_Verdammt, you know I'm not  
_** Gilbert (SENT 10:19am): **_But I'm still wearing something way awesomer than any of you so you can just suck it ):^D_**

Francis (SENT 10:20am): _Well, it seems as though I don't have to worry about you then    
_Francis (SENT 10:20am): _So what about you Toni? Have you and the little Italian thought of something absolutely romantic ;)_

Me (SENT 10:21am): _um, we're still thinking  
_ Me (SENT 10:21am): _Lovi wants to go as mafia guys, but i still want to go as a pirate D:_

Francis (SENT 10:22am): _Ah, and I'm completely safe it seems. At least I don't need to worry about you two_

Me (SENT 10:22am): _but what should Lovi and i wear?_

Francis (SENT 10:23am): _Je ne sais pas    
_Francis (SENT 10:23am): _I'm afraid that's a journey you two will have to make on your own    
_Francis (SENT 10:24am): __I will recommend that you try to make it sexy though ;) ;) ;)

Me (SENT 10:25am): _i'm not sure Lovi would go for that haha  
_ Me (SENT 10:25am): _maybe i'll just go over there and we can think of something_

Francis (SENT 10:26am): _Oh, actually if you need costumes, Feliks and I have some creations you can borrow  
_ Francis (SENT 10:26am): _We were put in charge of costume design for a theatre nearby, and they turned out tres magnifique if I do say so myself ;)_

Me (SENT 10:27am): _oh really? si i definitely want to see them then! i was kind of worried about buying something new_

Francis (SENT 10:27am): _Well then come on over mon cher! Gilbert and Arthur are missing, but certainly Mathieu, Feliks and I would enjoy your company ;)_

Me (SENT 10:29am): _okay! see u soon! :D_

 

~ 

 

I'm not sure what sort of play ( _or maybe plays?_ ) Francis and Feliks worked on, but there was certainly a strange collection of costumes. They were all completely beautiful of course, and very well made – but what would they need costumes of genies and nurses for?

Francis didn't even give me much of an explanation; and although Feliks wanted to, Francis wouldn't let him.

Feliks was already getting dressed up for the party when I was there, which I thought was pretty preemptive of him. He said he didn't have time to practice his Elsa makeup this week, so he knew he'd have to start early. I asked where he knew Feliciano from – because there's no way Lovino would have met him and not yelled about it to me – and apparently Felik's boyfriend Toris is in the same fitness class Feli's in. I feel like Feliciano meets so many people at the gym.

Francis was still pretty secretive about his costume, and although I begged and tried to be charming, he didn't say a word. He did lend me all of the costumes he thought would fit Lovi and I however, so I guess that's all that matters.

Matthew seemed to be as clueless as I was about the party, and he hadn't decided on anything either. I mean, that didn't really help me and my situation, but it did make me feel better knowing that at least Lovi and I weren't the only ones who forgot.

Once I started thinking about Lovi, I remembered I forgot to text him good morning like I usually do, and suddenly I lost my appetite for Matthew and France's brunch. It's a small thing obviously, but it reminded me of everything else, and that I had to check in with him again.

So I said my goodbyes to everyone at the apartment and took off – the new assortment of costumes stuffed in a large trash bag I slung over my shoulder – and hailed a taxi.

 

~

 

_Ring_

_Ring_

"…"

"Ah, Lovino? Is that you?" I asked into the phone and gave a dismissive wave to the taxi driver when he glanced at me.

"You called my fucking number. Who else would it be?"

" _Lo siento_ ," I laughed easily. "I just expected you to say hi or something."

"Right," He said shortly, and I waited for him to continue. "So why the fuck are you calling?"

"Oh, um well…first of all, I'm sorry I forgot to text you good morning today."

"Is that why I slept until eleven today?"

"Lovino," I whined, and wished he wasn't always so much more sarcastic on the phone.

"Calm down, I was only kidding you damn bastard. What else are you calling for?"

"Um, well," I said awkwardly as I tried to pay the taxi driver and stumble out of the car. "I was also wondering if you thought any more about our Halloween costume."

"I thought we already agreed what we're doing."

I sighed and I entered the fancy apartment building.

"Okay, well I also visited Francis today –"

"Shit."

I ignored that and continued, "And he gave me a bunch of costumes he made. I thought maybe we could try these on and see if we like them!"

Lovino grumbled something away from the phone, and then replied, "I don't really have a choice, do I?"

"Of course you do! Francis gave us ten costumes each!" I announced playfully.

"Damn it! You know that's not what I meant!"

I laughed and entered the elevator.

"Yeah, I know. But I think it'll be fun!"

"About as fun as this party will be," Lovino muttered, and I overheard some crashing in the background.

"What was that?" I asked, and switched the bag of costumes to my other shoulder.

"Oh, that's just Feli and the potato bastard. They're cooking or baking some random shit."

"Really?" I commented, and exited the elevator.

"Yeah really," He sighed, and I heard a door shut.

"So what are you doing?" I asked and stopped in front of their apartment.

"I don't know. I guess I'll take a shower or something."

I smiled.

"Do you mind if I join you?"

Something fell, and Lovino yelled, "SHIT – W-what the fuck are you talking about bastard?"

"This!" I sang, and pressed the doorbell.

_DING DONG_

"Great."

 

~

 

Feliciano was the one who greeted me at the door. His face was partially covered in flour, but he was smiling and wearing a pink apron. 

" _Ciao_ Toni! I didn't expect you here so early!" He said as he ushered me in, and I dragged my bag behind me.

" _Si_ , well, Lovi and I don't know what we're wearing yet, so I thought we could try some things on while it's still early," I said and waved at Ludwig. I looked around and asked, "Is he in his room?"

Feliciano grimaced slightly, but tried to keep his smile.

" _Si_ , he's been there all day. He only came out to get something to eat," He answered and fidgeted with the hem of his apron.

I narrowed my eyes at him, suddenly worried.

"What's wrong? Did something happen?"

Feli looked up at me and his eyes widened.

"No, no! It's nothing bad. Lovi's just," Feliciano paused and bit his lip. "He's a bit mad at me right now."

"Why?" I set the bag down and stared at him anxiously.

Feliciano put his hands in his apron pockets, and said, "Well, _nonno_ called last night, and he wanted to come visit us soon, so I said he could come to one of our art shows. And I already told him yes before I asked Lovi…"

"Do they not get along?" I asked and I felt adrenaline surge through my veins. My mind immediately sped to a hundred different scenarios.

"It's not that exactly." Feliciano shifted his weight. "But _nonno's_ always been a lot harder on Lovi, and I think that's always bothered him."

"Oh," I replied and looked in the direction of Lovi's room. "Have you talked to him about it?"

"I tried," Feli said sadly. "But he keeps insisting everything's fine now. I think he just doesn't want to talk about it anymore." He sighed, and I noticed Ludwig glancing at us from his spot in the kitchen.

"How about I go talk to him," I smiled and put a hand on Feli's shoulder.

Feliciano looked up at me and slowly his eyes blinked back to usual, and he managed a weak grin at me.

Then he skipped back to Ludwig, and I started hauling my bag down the hall to Lovi's room.

The door was closed – as it always was – and I knocked three times.

"Come in bastard," He said, and my heart fluttered slightly at the sound of his voice. No matter how many times I hear it, I always seem to miss it.

I opened the door and smiled automatically. I searched for his figure, and found him lying on his bed in long-sleeves and sweatpants, staring at his ceiling fan.

"Lovi~" I cooed, and took secret pleasure that his cheeks started reddening already. "You waited for me!"

He turned to me and snapped, "What do you mean waited?"

"You haven't taken a shower yet!" I pointed out, and Lovino's face flushed darker in embarrassment and rage.

"That doesn't mean I was waiting for you, _idiota_!" He yelled and turned on his side so his back was facing me.

I laughed lightly and dropped the bag on the floor. Then I jumped on the bed, sending Lovi's body jerking upwards in surprise.

"What the fuck are you doing now?" He shouted, and I stopped smiling when I noticed his eyes. They usually have some sort of purple smudge underneath, but they seemed even worse today.

"I thought you said you slept until eleven," I said and grasped his face between my two hands.

Lovino's eyes flicked down to the floor to avoid my gaze, and he muttered, "I said I was kidding."

"Are you okay?" I asked, and immediately Lovino's eyes darted accusingly at me.

"What the hell does that mean?" He slapped my hands away and scooted to the headboard.

I watched him carefully, and said, "Feliciano told me about the call from your grandfather."

His shoulders relaxed slightly, but he kept the biting tone in his voice. "Of course he did."

"Lovino," I warned and crawled over to him. "Don't be angry with Feliciano. You know he didn't mean to make you angry."

"I know," Lovino admitted and wrapped his arms around his legs. "I just wish _nonno_ wasn't coming."

"Why?"

Lovino's hands tightened around his forearms, and he said, "There's just always been a lot of tension between us."

"What about?" I asked and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. I noticed he jumped, but I decided not to say anything about it.

"Just…everything," He sighed and buried his face in his arms. "I've never been good enough, even though I try so hard. And Feliciano always is."

"Oh, Lovi," I murmured and tried to wrap both of my arms around him. As soon as I tried though, he flinched again, and this time I stopped.

I looked at him expectantly, waiting for an answer, but he only glanced at me briefly before sliding off of he bed.

"Lovino," I began and watched him twitch at the sound of my voice. My stomach was twisting, like I already knew the answer, but I had to ask anyway. "What happened?"

"N-nothing," He stuttered and kept his back to me.

"Lovino…" I hurried off of the bed, and pulled him by the shoulders to look at me. "What is it?"

His eyes wavered over mine before falling to the floor again. I knew that look. He was guilty.

I took a deep breath and asked, "Did you…" My voice trailed off, but I didn't need to finish before I got my answer. Lovino winced and I knew. I exhaled loudly. "Where?"

He fidgeted, and I could tell he didn't want to answer.

"Where is it?" I asked again, and I automatically reached for his arms to check.

Lovino quickly yanked them out of hands and crossed them over his chest. "Not there."

"Then whe –"

"It's hard to get to, alright!" He snapped and glared at me with molten brown eyes.

We stared at each other for a long while and I could tell Lovino was retreating back into himself. He was angry because he was afraid, and he was afraid because he felt guilty. I knew that. It's so plain to me. But I need Lovino to come back to me. I need him to talk.

Still looking at him square in the eyes, I asked, "Why?"

He blinked, and narrowed his eyes at me. "Why what?"

"You could've called me. Why didn't you?"

Lovino pressed his lips together, and his eyes shined. "It was four in the fucking morning! What was I supposed to do?"

"You were _supposed_ to call me," I said evenly, and he gulped.

He dropped his arms to his sides and clenched his fists. "Come on – it's not as if you would've picked up anyway!"

"That's a lie. You know I would've," I replied quickly, and Lovino immediately darted his eyes down. "What did you use?"

At that, Lovino's face lost all capability to mask itself: and it was obvious how guilty he was. He didn't give me all of his blades. I knew that was a possibility, so I'm not too surprised. But it doesn't make it any less painful.

"Lovino," I sighed and ran my hand through my hair.

"Look, I'm sorry! I mess up! I mess up all the fucking time!" He shouted and his face was flushed. After a beat I noticed tears were bubbling at the corner of his eyes, but he quickly brushed them away. "Damn it. Y-you should already know this about me. I'm always going to mess up. I always w –" He hiccupped, and at this point, his tears had turned into full out sobs.

I took the opportunity to wrap him in my arms again, and he was quick to grab on and press his face into my chest.

"Shh, it's okay Lovi," I whispered near his ear and rubbed his back soothingly. "Everyone slips up once in a while. It'll be alright."

"No, it won't damn it! I don't understand why you keep saying that; you know I'm just a screw up!"

"No, you're not Lovino," I said firmly and tried to hold on to his shaking body. "It's hard for you. I can see that. And I can tell you're trying."

"But I - " He stopped between cries. "What if I k-keep messing up? Maybe I'll never –"

"Don't say that," I interrupted quickly and pushed him back slightly so I could look into his eyes. "You've already come a long way, you know."

"H-how the fuck is one week a long way?" He asked and tears spilled down his cheeks.

"But you never would've talked to me about it anytime before. And I don't think you've ever regretted it like this either," I smiled reassuringly. "You also called me this week, and trusted me enough to come to the Art Show. I know you slipped up a little today, but you're only human, Lovi. I didn't expect you to get better all at once."

"But what if I don't get better? You don't seem to get it. I've tried quitting before! I'm always trying! But I've never been able to do it!" He shouted, and I wiped the tears from his eyes.

I looked at him evenly, and after some moments his breathing became easier, and the tears stopped falling.

"Have you ever truly wanted to quit before?"

Lovino blinked. "W-What?"

"I'm asking if you ever truly wanted to quit before."

He didn't say anything.

"Or were you afraid to give it up?"

 

~

 

Lovino never answered my question.

After I asked it he stayed quiet, and turned on his heel without a word and walked into the bathroom. At first I thought he may have been angry at me for asking that – maybe it wasn't the right time to ask it – but then I heard the shower run and I hoped maybe he was trying to cool off.

As he was taking his shower I set the costumes on his bed and waited patiently for him to come out; taking my time to glance around his room again. He took a long time, and when he eventually did come out, it didn't escape my notice that he dressed himself back in the clothes he was wearing earlier. I suppose he doesn't want to walk out in only a towel.

But seeing as how Lovi was trying hard to bounce back to normal, I decided not to say anything about it. It did make me wonder where the new injuries were though.

"So Lovi," I piped up, and Lovi stopped towel-drying his hair to look at me. "Which one of these do you like?"

He dropped the towel to his shoulders, and his dark brown hair laid messy and damp against his forehead. As he took his time to look at the clothing, I watched his dark lashes sweep against his warm olive skin, and I wished I had a camera with me. Lovino just doesn't seem to realize how beautiful he is. He doesn't even see how strong and talented his is. I wish somehow I could show him everything he is in a picture, but it just isn't enough.

"Antonio," Lovino said and I quickly focused on him. "Why the fuck would you bring a nurse's outfit?"

I glanced at the dress he was holding in his hands and I blushed.

"Oh, I must have grabbed that one by mistake. Francis had a lot in his apartment," I chuckled, and Lovi rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever," He grumbled and dropped it back on the bed. "And did you really think there was a chance of me being a cowboy?"

"Well…"

"Or a baseball player?"

"Aw, but they have such cute uniforms!"

Lovino frowned at me, and took a last look at the costumes. "Well, the only one that doesn't actually repulse me are the pirate costumes."

"Really? Oh, yay Lovi~" I shouted and kissed him quickly on the cheek.

After a second he shoved me away, and looked at me accusingly. "But don't think I haven't realized what you've done by rigging these costumes."

" _Qué_? I don't know what you're talking about," I sing-songed happily and pressed another kiss to his cheek.

"Yeah right," He mumbled, and begrudgingly let me shower him with affection.

I know he secretly likes it; he just has to pretend to fight me off for a while before he thinks it's okay to give up. And that's just fine with me. It's just another thing that makes him so adorable.

 

~

 

_A few hours later…_

 

 

 

(Lovino's POV)

 

 

 

"Lovino, just come on out. People are already here."

I groaned and fidgeted with the end of my billowy sleeve.

"I feel really stupid," I replied and took one last look in the mirror.

"Aw, come on I'm sure you look – SO CUTE!" Antonio shouted when I opened the door.

I groaned again, but this time my face reddened too; and I began feeling a whole new level of uncomfortable.

I finally noticed what Antonio was wearing and I clenched my fists. "Okay, why the fuck are you wearing a captain's hat?"

Antonio fixed his hat playfully and tried to offer me a devilish grin. Tried. And failed.

"Because I'm the _capitán_ of course!" He said and winked. There was something eerily natural about the way he looked in a pirate's outfit. With the tall boots, and the pants, and the coat. I mean, Antonio's still an idiot sure, but it can't be just me that thinks he looks a bit…cooler?

"You look stupid," I muttered and stomped past him.

Antonio quickly caught up and put his arm my waist. " _Y te ves hermosa mi corazón_!"

"Damn it, stop speaking fucking Spanish!" I yelled as I moved his hand away and opened the door. I glanced back at Antonio and asked, "What the hell does that even mean anyway?"

He smirked, and I instantly punched him in the arm. It was becoming my gut reaction now.

"Never mind," I muttered and stormed down the hall in front of him.

The closer I got the louder the voices became, until I turned the corner and the crowds appeared in front of me. All dressed up and loud, and fucking annoying. God damn it, Feliciano.

"Lovi!"

I turned to my side briefly before Feliciano tackled me into a hug.

"Feli?" I managed as I untangled myself from his arms. "Why the fuck are you wearing a sheet?"

"I'm a ghost!" He announced and twirled around to demonstrate.

"Right," I deadpanned, and couldn't help but notice Antonio had joined his idiots on the other side of the room. The albino was carrying a guitar and was wearing some stupid punk outfit I can only assume is part of his band's "look" or whatever. And the French bastard was in a dress, and a crown, and carrying a book and tor – fuck, he was the Statue of Liberty. 

"Lovi," Feliciano said, and I turned back in the direction of his masked face. "You're not still mad at me, are you?"

I sighed. "No, I'm not. He probably would've come anyway, even if we told him no."

"Vee~ _grazie, fratello_!" Feli shouted and pulled me in for another embrace. He took another step back, and through the cut-outs I saw his eyes sparkle. "And anyway, I don't think you need to worry about him criticizing you this time."

I furrowed my eyebrows and stared at him. "What does that m –"

"Oh, Lovi have you met Feliks? I know his boyfriend from my fitness class," Feliciano said as he pushed a "guy" towards me. Then he waved, and took off in another direction.

"Hey, it's like nice to meet you," He said, and I was definitely sure it was a boy now. It's just that the makeup and the hair and the dress really through me off.

"Are you supposed to be…"

"Elsa? Yeah, I thought it was pretty perfect," He looked down at the dress and lifted a sparkly cape. "I made it all myself."

"Great," I said awkwardly and looked around for some sort of escape.

"So are you the one Toni's leaving his job for?"

At that my attention immediately snapped back to him. "Wait – what?"

Feliks put his hand on his hip and flipped his hair. "Well, I thought I heard through the grapevine that Toni found some little Italian he wa –"

"Feliks," Another guy interrupted and gave Feliks a hard slap to the back. "Those girls really liked your makeup and they were wondering if you could give them some tips."

"Oh really?" He brightened and darted off to the group of girls without another look back.

I glanced at the new guy dressed in some stupid knight outfit.

"What the fuck was he talking about?" I asked and tried to look as intimidating as I could.

The guy got nervous fairly easily and flinched. "Oh, you really shouldn't pay any attention to Feliks. He's a really bad gossip that believes anything he hears," He laughed but I didn't feel that assured. "Oh, and I'm Toris, by the way."

He held out his hand but I just dismissed it and walked towards Antonio. He was still standing and joking around with the two idiots, and as I approached the French one caught sight of me.

"Ah, _mon cher_ Lovino," Francis purred and swayed towards me with a glass of wine in his hand. "There's someone I want you to meet."

He grasped my hand and began tugging me away.

"Hey – HEY! Let go of me drunk-wine-drinking-bastard!" I yelled and tried to yank my hand from his grasp.

He stopped and I bumped into him. " _Quelle est cette_? I don't know where he went."

"Who are you talking about?" I shouted and finally jerked my hand free.

"Um," Francis hummed as he turned right and left. " _Mon petit_ Mathieu. He was just here…Oh there he is!"

"Well, that's just fan-fucking-tast – hey!"

Francis quickly grabbed me by the arm and pulled me towards the kitchen without giving me time to protest. When he let me go the first thing I saw was Alfred who – not unlike how I saw him last – was eating his way through Feliciano and Ludwig's food.

Matthew was looming over him, trying to stop him from completely devouring the Halloween cake.

"What's wrong with him?" I asked, and Matthew turned to me apologetically.

"I'm sorry. I think Alfred's just going through a bit of a –" Matthew paused to hand Alfred a water bottle. Alfred ignored it and reached for a root beer. Matthew sighed. "He's having a little existential crisis right now."

" _Que_? Our fearless, brave American having a crisis?" Francis asked mockingly and Alfred briefly left his chocolate cake alone to look at him lazily. "How could Captain America be in trouble?"

Francis waved at his outfit, and I winced when I noticed Alfred was definitely wearing a stupid, blue spandex suit. That idiot.

"I just don't know what to do," Alfred whined and dropped his plate on the counter.

"Ah, but you're not even trying, are you?" Francis pointed out, and Alfred's eyes widened. "If you were truly Captain America, you would pull yourself up and figure out your own destiny! Blaze your own path in the name of _liberté_!"

Alfred's blue eyes shimmered with excitement, and Matthew stepped in.

"Well, actually Captain America isn't really the blaze your own destiny type. He's more like the soldier that fights for the good of Amer –"

"You're right Frenchie!" Alfred interrupted and stood up to his full, damn-tall, height. He clenched his fist in passion and looked up. "I can't wait for S.H.I.E.L.D. to unfreeze me, I'm going to have to do it myself!"

"Al, you're really losing the analogy here," Matthew sighed and cupped his chin in his palm.

"No time to talk Bucky! I gotta go out and find Van Gogh!" Alfred shouted and sprinted full-speed for the door. He didn't even glance back before the door slammed behind him.

"Find Van Gogh?" I repeated and looked at Matthew.

"Oh, that's Alfred's favorite artist. I think he means he's going to find inspiration…I think," Matthew replied with a weak smile and glanced nervously at the door. "I hope he'll be okay."

"Ah, _mon cher_ , you worry too much! Alfred's basically indestructible. Sometimes I wonder if he actually _is_ superhuman," Francis said wistfully and laid a hand on Matthew's shoulder.

"I suppose so," Matthew added and rubbed his temple.

It didn't seem like this pointless scene was going anywhere, so I decided to turn around and find Antonio.

"Not so fast," Francis warned and was damn fast at pulling me a foot backwards. "I still want to introduce someone to you."

"I've already met Matthew!" I half-shouted and crossed my arms. Then I turned to him and added, "Hi."

"Hello, nice to see you again," He said softly and I gave him a once-over.

"What are you supposed to be?" I asked, and slightly regretted the tone of my voice.

"Oh," Matthew looked down and blushed lightly. "I wasn't going to come in costume, but Alfred kind of insisted, so he made me wear um, the Winter Solider costume."

I stared at the blue suit and silvery-metallic looking arm. "Is that a superhero or something?"

Before Matthew could reply, Francis interrupted, "You must forgive him Mathieu, the little Italian has yet to learn the ways of the Americans. But that doesn't matter, how about you two go over there and talk, hm?"

Francis started leading Matthew and I towards the bathroom.

"Hey – what the fuck are you doing?"

"Oh, just introducing two kindred spirits to each other," He answered and shoved us both in the bathroom. "Matthew I trust you can take it from here," He said with a wink, and shut the door.

"You know this is my bathroom! You can't just lock me in here!" I yelled and tried to turn the doorknob. It didn't budge. "The fuck – are you holding the door from the other side?"

He didn't say anything coherent, but I heard a distinctly annoying _ohonhonhon_.

"Damn it," I muttered and leaned against the door. I looked at Matthew and he was shifting from side to side awkwardly. "Do you have any idea what he's talking about?"

He smiled awkwardly. "Um, kind of. Francis thinks maybe I can help you."

"Help me?" I mocked, and subconsciously reach for the ends of my sleeves. Matthew seemed to notice that however, and his indigo eyes softened.

"Yeah," He said, and this time his smile wasn't awkward as it was endearing. "I know it may be uncomfortable for you to talk about this, but um," He paused and moved his hands behind his back. "You should know that you're not alone."

My heart stopped, and I felt heat and anger surge through my veins as I prepared to lie. But before I could, Matthew kept talking.

"I went through something similar a long time ago – well – I guess it wasn't a long time ago. It just feels like it," He laughed softly and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said spitefully and moved my gaze to the floor.

After a few seconds, Matthew's soft voice rung again: "I used to self-harm."

My breath hitched.

"I don't know what your situation is Lovino, but…" He paused and I felt his eyes on me. "I can tell you haven't moved past it."

"W-what do you know?" I snapped instinctively – though I knew how stupid those words actually were. I looked up hesitantly, and saw Matthew was still smiling sympathetically with his dark, gentle eyes.

"I know quite a bit about this unfortunately," He said and touched his clothed wrist.

I eyed him suspiciously. Why do I feel so goddamn threatened?

"Do you mind if I ask if you want to quit?"

"I'm trying to," I answered quickly; the argument with Antonio still fresh in my mind.

"But do you want to?" Matthew repeated.

I stared at him.

"Back then I went through a few rehab clinics, and they would work for a while, but each time after I left... I realized I didn't really care about getting better and I ended up going back to it every time," He said and sighed softly.

 _Rehab clinic?_ Would I have to go –

"D-do I have to go to one of those?" I asked a bit fearfully, and for once in my life I felt blood drain away from my face.

Matthew blinked and waved his hands. "Oh, no you don't! I mean – maybe. It all depends really. My parents were pretty freaked out when they found out, so that's part of the reason I had to. And then I also had some other things to deal with."

I nodded, but I knew my face still looked like it was scared shitless.

"Like I said, they do help," Matthew offered with a small smile. "And so do therapists and friends and family, but I guess, what I'm trying to get at is – you can only really quit when you decide you want to."

" _I do want to_ ," I insisted and for whatever reason my throat tightened.

I guess I'm just tired of telling everybody. I'm tired of trying to prove it, because really – I really do want to quit. I don't want to drag people down anymore; I don't want to drag myself down anymore. I don't want to be so fucking dependent on a blade to solve all of my problems. It feels weak, it feels pathetic, and damn it, I'm tired of it.

"I know it's probably frightening to imagine your life without the option being there," Matthew said and I looked at him. "But it really does exist. I promise it gets better."

My eyes were glistening again – I could feel it – but there's no fucking way I'd let myself cry twice in the same day.

Still though, I couldn't help but ask, "Really?"

Matthew smiled a bit broader. "Really."

Before a tear could escape my eye I looked down and tried to casually wipe it away. I heard the rustle of clothing and glanced back at Matthew again.

He took out a notebook and pen ( _from where?)_ and was scribbling something down.

"Why do you carry a notebook?" I asked, and was thankful for something more lighthearted to bury down the tears.

"Well, I'm a journalist so I try to always carry one," He said a bit embarrassed and a light blush dusted his cheeks. Then he tore a page away and handed it to me. "Here's my number. You can text or call if you need anything."

I looked at it.

"Oh, but if I'm at work, Gilbert has a habit of answering my phone so, uh, if he picks up you can just hang up and I'll call you back," He chuckled and rubbed his arm.

He's so… _nice._

My face felt warm again, and suddenly the situation felt ten times more embarrassing than it was.

"Um, thank yo –"

I was interrupted by the hard slam of the door against my back, and the annoying, fucking Francis popping in.

" _Bonjour_! So sorry to disturb you, but it seems the other Italian and the other German have a little show for us, so why don't you two come on out!"

"God damn it! Have you ever heard of knocking asshole?" I shouted and punched him in the bicep.

" _Ohonhonhon_ , it's not as if you two were doing something inappropriate in there, were you?" Francis asked mischievously and ran out the door again.

"Fuck – of course not!" I yelled and sprinted after him, giving one last glance in Matthew's direction.

He smiled at me, and I saw the albino walk up to him with two beers. _Mio Dio_ , Gilbert doesn't stand a chance with him. What an idiot.

When Francis magically disappeared, I finally realized everyone in the apartment was gathered in a circle around Feliciano and Ludwig, and I tried to navigate through them to find Antonio.

I didn't have to go too far before I heard someone whisper, " _Allí están mi amor_."

I turned to my left and Antonio was grinning happily at me; his green eyes bright and sparkling.

"Are you still speaking in Spanish?" I asked sarcastically, and fought the temptation to smile.

"Only because you like it," He said and kissed me quickly on the lips.

I savored it for a moment, but I didn't want to be caught kissing him with his idiot friends looming around, so in another second I pushed him away and muttered, "Bastard."

" _Ciao_ everyone!"

Antonio and I both turned to Feliciano, and saw him standing in the middle of his little circle, with Ludwig awkwardly standing near him. Why the fuck was he wearing a sheet too?

"Vee~ so as everyone knows, Ludwig and I have been dating for a while," Feliciano said lovingly, and I could see the smile through his sheet. "And as we've been dating we've learned a lot about each other, and also discovered new things about ourselves."

"What is this?" I whispered harshly to Antonio. "You don't think…they're getting married do you?" I looked at him slightly panicked and he flashed an excited smile.

"Oh, do you think so? That'd be so much fun!"

"Damn it, no! It would not be fun!" I said and clenched my fist.

"So with that being said, we have a little announcement to make," Feliciano finished and I started really panicking.

"No, they can't be getting married! Feli's only nineteen! Ludwig doesn't even have a fucking real job!" I ranted and Antonio tried to get me to quiet down.

I glanced back at Feli and Ludwig nervously, and saw they were both clutching the end of their sheets. Then in one swift motion they lifted it over their heads and let it fall to the floor.

Underneath they're both wearing…chef outfits?

"We're going to culinary school!" Feliciano yelled, and Ludwig didn't do anything except hide his face in his hands.

"Congratulations, _mon cher_! I'm sure you'll both do fabulous!" Francis shouted, and I caught Gilbert laughing hysterically next to him. Matthew looked like he was trying to quiet him down.

"Wow, Feli's going too?" Antonio commented next to me. "Lovino? Are you okay?"

He waved his hand in front of my face and I blinked.

"I need wine," I said simply and retreated to the kitchen to search for one of my expensive bottles.

Antonio stayed close to me and asked, "Are you okay? Does this bother you?"

"What? Of course it doesn't!" I snapped and pulled a bottle from the cupboard. I pulled out a corkscrew and yanked out the plug. "Feli can join the circus for all I care."

I took a swig of the bottle and caught Antonio looking at me warily.

"I'm just surprised. And shocked. And fucking confused. But it doesn't bother me at all," I said and tilted the bottle back again.

When I lowered it Antonio plucked it from my hands and held it away from me.

"Hey!"

"If it doesn't bother you, why are you drinking wine like it's water?" He asked curiously.

"I'm celebrating," I said and grabbed the bottle back. He still looked perplexed so I added, "For once in my life, I'm not going to be the one who disappoints our grandfather."

I offered him a rare smile and took another drink of the bottle.

 

~

 

_A few days later..._

 

 

 

(Antonio's POV)

 

 

 

I was never exactly sure how Lovi felt about Feli's career switch. I mean he said he was happy and he could also care less; but that just made me all the more confused. At least he didn't seem upset though. I guess that's the main thing. 

After what happened on Sunday, I kept a closer eye on him. I felt as though I was beginning to understand what he looked like when he had the urge. Yesterday, I went to see him after sculpture and I could tell his face was decidedly different than when I last saw him. It was like a light went out, and his eyes couldn't see past a few feet in front of him. His expression was so much darker.

It was easier for him to mask it with anger, so he did that a lot. But it was never genuine anger, so I didn't mind. I suppose it's like a language barrier I have to overcome with him. I have to pay attention more to what he does, and less what he says.

But there was also something more determined about him this week. He made a point of finding me or Feli whenever that look fell on his face. Sometimes in class I would see it, but there wasn't so much I could do, and I was relieved when he'd turn to Feli or Alfred and talk to them. It was never about how he felt of course, but he didn't like talking about that even with me.

Like he kept telling me. He just needed a distraction.

 

~

 

_Ring_

_Ring_

_Ring_

_Ring_

I heard the last ring, and in a panic I grasped my phone from underneath the pillow and answered it.

"Um, h-hello?" I said and tried to find the switch of my lamp.

"Hey bastard," Lovino replied quietly, and my heart stuttered. It's a strange combination of fear and happiness when he calls.

I finally managed to turn on the light and I checked the time: 5:20am.

"So…what's up?" I asked awkwardly.

He sighed. "I had a bad dream."

"Oh?" I said shortly.

I waited, but he didn't say anything more.

"What was it about?" I pushed, and hoped he would be willing to respond.

"…It was weird."

"How so?"

"It also really freaked me out, so you have to promise this is never going to happen," He ordered and I could hear the slight concern in his voice.

"Okay," I said carefully.

"Well, it's just," He began awkwardly. "You were there and you seemed really upset about something – I think you were talking about losing your job…"

"Oh, well that wouldn't really bother me in real life," I pointed out and Lovino grumbled.

"Whatever, that's not the point," He said and took a breath. "You were really upset, and you were – well – you were cutting yourself."

"Me?" I asked a bit incredulously.

"Yes you!" He snapped, and I could tell he was getting annoyed now. "Anyway, you were cutting yourself and you were bleeding and I think you were crying too and damn it, you kept yelling these things at me. Like _'this helped you'_ and shit like that. Then I woke up and I haven't stopped thinking about it."

His breath was a bit frantic over the phone.

"Why do you think you dreamed about that?"

"Wh – I don't know! Because my mind's a mess! Because I'm worried you're going to lose your job! You tell me!" He shouted and I had to hold the phone away from my ear.

Then I brought it back and said, "I had a dream similar to that a while ago, where I found you crying and bleeding. And then it came true when I found you like that two weeks ago."

"…I wasn't crying."

"Lovino," I warned.

"Fine, whatever," He muttered, and there was some rustling of his blankets. "I don't get what you're trying to say though."

"I guess I don't know either," I admitted, and Lovi sighed over the phone. "But I think you might understand how I feel now."

He didn't say anything, but I could hear him thinking in the silence.

"Were you afraid?" I asked after a while.

It took him a moment, and then he said, "Yeah." He was quiet for a while longer, and he whispered, "Please don't do that Antonio."

"I won't," I reassured him, and secretly ached that I wasn't close enough to hold him. "But Lovino?"

He hummed slightly in response.

"Could you just try to remember how it felt to see someone like that if you ever get the urge again?" I asked softly, and waited patiently for his answer.

Very quietly, he murmured, "I'll try."

And that was the end of that.

 

~

 

_The day of the third art show…_

 

 

 

On Saturday, I decided to visit Lovino before the art show. It was a good deal before actually, but I thought I'd surprise him and take him out to dinner. He was always much more restful after he'd eaten.

Feli was still there when I came fortunately, but basically just as I was about to ring the doorbell he opened the door to leave, and we were only able to give each other hellos and goodbyes before I was left alone in the apartment. He didn't even tell me where Lovi was.

Okay, well I guess that would've been a redundant thing to ask. If Lovi wasn't in the living room – which he wasn't – he was always in his bedroom.

So I skipped on over, a bit excited I could surprise him, and opened the door without knocking.

Which was a mistake.

Lovi was standing in the middle of his room checking his phone, while also brushing his teeth. However, he stopped both of those things as soon as I stepped foot inside, and we both stared at each other wide-eyed because Lovi wasn't wearing a shirt. Or pants. Just boxers.

And although the only thing going through my mind were different Spanish ways to say how cute he was, I knew Lovino was thinking something completely different.

He panicked, and he dove into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. I even heard it lock which was a bit insulting.

That's when I finally managed to drag myself away from my rooted position by the door, and run to the bathroom.

"Lovi," I called, and pressed my ear to the door. "It's alright. You can come out."

He actually did come out, but he was wearing a long-sleeve shirt and jeans this time.

"You changed," I said offhand and he shoved past me.

"You didn't knock," He replied, and his tone made me wince.

" _Lo siento_ , I didn't know –" I stopped when I thought of something else to say. "It really isn't a big deal though. I didn't see anything."

That's a lie. It happened fast, but I did see a bit. Nothing in particular, but I saw the general indication of scars on his hips, and some that scattered over his stomach. The scars on his arms stopped at his forearms for the most part, but I spotted a few red lines on his shoulder – and those looked fresh.

"Good, I didn't want you to see anything," He spat and turned around to glare at me.

"Lovi," I placated and reached for his hand. He let me take it, which was a good sign. "It really is okay. You don't have to hide so much from me."

I pulled his hand closer until he was inches away.

"I guess," He mumbled and dropped his gaze to the floor.

I squeezed his hand. "Were the cuts on your shoulder from Sunday?"

He flinched and looked up.

"I thought you didn't see anything," He pointed out accusingly.

"I can lie too, you know," I said and Lovi narrowed his eyes.

"Whatever. Why are you here?" He asked and pulled his hand from my grasp to cross his arms.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go out to dinner with me," I said and smiled.

Lovino blushed, like he was embarrassed he was ever angry, and mumbled, "Sure."

"Okay," I said and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "I'll wait in the living room for you."

 

~

 

At dinner, Lovi visibly relaxed.

I was beginning to navigate my way around New York's best Italian places, and this time (fortunately), I chose a good one.

Right after the breadbasket, Lovino's eyes already sparkled more in contentment than malice, and his fingers stopped trying to grip and regrip the fabric of his sleeves.

It was cute how much he loved food.

After Lovino was halfway through his gnocchi and I was basically done with my chicken alfredo, he seemed more willing to talk.

"So, what do you think's going to happen to the idiot tonight?" Lovi asked and stabbed another piece of pasta.

I was a bit confused. "Which idiot?"

"The American one," He said and rolled his eyes.

"Oh, Alfred. Um," I hummed and chewed thoughtfully. "I think he might be thinking of leaving the school."

"Wait – what?" Lovino half-shouted and stared at me.

"He mentioned something briefly to me yesterday. I mean, he said it in Indiana Jones references, but I think that's what he meant."

"Well that's…unexpected," He muttered and looked to the side. I was going to ask him what that expression was for, but he quickly turned back to me and said, "But I was talking about the dumb Brit he's fawning over. Is he coming?"

"Oh, Arthur!" I said in recognition and immediately reached for my phone. "I don't know, let me check. I did hear from Gilbert that Arthur seemed to be growing bored of being a recluse."

I checked the messages on my phone and smiled.

"It seems like Alfred might have some good luck tonight."

 

~

 

Well, I thought he'd have good luck. But as we approached the first hour, things were looking pretty dismal, and Alfred…wasn't holding up well either.

Francis was supposed to text me if they ever left the apartment, and he still hasn't. I don't know if that means the plan was a failure, or if Arthur is just too much work to even give them an opportunity to give us a head's up.

I looked at Alfred briefly and sighed. I'm starting to feel kind of bad for him. He thought organizing this whole thing would impress Arthur when they met. But he doesn't know how much of a hermit Arthur really is.

Lovino was tapping away at his phone in the corner, so I thought I'd go talk to him.

" _Hola_ Lovi," I cooed and he briefly lifted his eyes off of the phone. "Who are you talking to?"

"Matthew," He replied dryly. "Apparently the idiots are having trouble finding the entrance to this place."

"Oh, wait – they're here? They actually managed to bring Arthur here?" I asked and frantically searched for Alfred to tell him.

"Well, yeah. You told me they were going to. I don't know why you're acting so surprise – hey!" He shouted after me, but I ignored him.

"Alfred," I called as I approached the refreshments table. As always he was there, but he seemed less unhappy than last week and more melancholy. His eyes slowly moved to me and I said, "Arthur's here."

Something came alive in his blue eyes, and the longer he stared at me, the more vivacity slowly appeared. Then in a sudden burst he leapt off of the chair and sprinted towards the entrance.

"Alfred! What are you doing?" I yelled after him and he stopped in his tracks to look at me. "You can't just say hello to him. You have to make it look…cool."

"Oh, right," He mumbled and hurried back to me.

Over his shoulder I spotted Gilbert's silver hair, and I knew Arthur couldn't have been far behind.

"Okay, how about I tell Feli to show him around, and you can just jump in whenever you feel like it."

Alfred nodded determinedly and skipped away in another direction.

Then, quickly I searched for Feli and whispered the instructions in his ear. He seemed all to eager to comply since Ludwig was too busy to make it, and he honed in on Arthur's unsure stance near the entrance.

Happy with the plan, I hopped back to Lovi – who was crossing his arms and surveying the entire scene.

"So Lovi," I sang and poked him in the side. "Are you excited?"

"For what?"

"For romance! We're about to see it unfold in front of our eyes!" I announced and pointed in the directions of Arthur and Alfred.

"Romance between two idiots," He muttered and rolled his eyes. "I can't believe I have to watch this."

"Everyone else seems to be watching," I pointed out and examined how truly every single person was either entranced with overall-clad Alfred, or sweater-vest wearing Arthur.

"Great for them," Lovi said sarcastically.

Suddenly, an idea popped into my head, and with a surge of excitement I tugged Lovi towards the back of the exhibit, behind the very last wall of artwork.

"What are you doing?" He said under his breath and tried to tear his hand from my grip. "Someone could see."

I grinned. "Everyone's watching their romance. No one will bother finding ours."

Lovino blushed and looked away.

"You make it sound unimportant," He muttered and pursed his lips.

I pulled him closer and whispered near his ear, "Not unimportant. Just secret."

And I kissed him.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the end! Just to clarify...again. I could've ended it on an angsty cliffhanger, but I was getting kind of tired of that. I craved fluff!
> 
> I'm a little worried I might have added a bit too much of myself with Lovino's bad dream. It's just something I get a lot (though of course in place of Antonio, it's my own friends, family, etc.), and I thought it might add to the story. Bad dreams in general are something I get on a regular basis (not nightmares, like I wake up screaming and crying; just bad, as in they loom over my thoughts for a day or two), which I think is the main reason for my poor sleeping habits.
> 
> Anyway, it seems as though there's the possibility I'll have to split the next chapter in two. Just because there's a lot of content to cover and I'm not sure if it'll fit into one chapter nicely. Damn it, I was so excited that I might finish at 20 chapters. Argh, it would've been so pretty...But I guess the story is more important *sighs wistfully*.
> 
> We'll see what happens.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! :D


	17. The City of Ambition, Alfred Stieglitz, 1910. Camera work photogravure, gelatin silver print. (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all about family, destiny, and love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty - a few things.
> 
> I changed the spacing/format. I don't know. It just occurred to me one night, and since I was in a writer's block, I was like "why the hell not?" If it's worse...then shoot. I spent like two hours on that. But I think it might be better. The spaces were a bit large.
> 
> Also, I bumped the rating up to M. That was done just to cover my bases. No one's said anything about the rating so far, but I figured, just in case. I do have some relatively graphic scenes scattered about.
> 
> TW for references of self-harm. Always.

(Lovino’s POV)

 

 

 

Me (SENT 8:30am): **Just a head’s up bastard, I’m not coming to school**

Damn Antonio (SENT 8:31am): _what???? why??? D: D:  
_ Damn Antonio (SENT 8:31am): _i’m going to miss u mi amor!!_  

Me (SENT 8:32am): **Yeah well Feli and I have to pick up our grandpa  
** Me (SENT 8:32am): **And I’m sure afterwards he’ll want to eat lunch and talk and all that crap**

Damn Antonio (SENT 8:33am): _oh, well that sounds kind of fun!_

Me (SENT 8:34am): **No**

Damn Antonio (SENT 8:35am): _do u think i’ll get to see u after sometime?_

Me (SENT 8:35am): **Doubt it**

Damn Antonio (SENT 8:36am): _noooo that can’t be Lovi!! D: i can’t live a day without u!_

Me (SENT 8:37am): **Right  
** Me (SENT 8:37am): **So anyway, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow**

Damn Antonio (SENT 8:38am): _don’t say that mi amor! i’ll find a way to meet u!!_  

Me (SENT 8:39am): **Please don’t. It’s already going to be embarrassing as it is, if you’re there I  
** Me (SENT 8:39am): **Just don’t**  

Damn Antonio (SENT 8:40am): _are u saying i make u flustered ;D_

Me (SENT 8:41am): **SHIT NO I'M NOT  
** Me (SENT 8:41am): **Fuck, just don’t come and I’ll talk to you later, okay**

Damn Antonio (SENT 8:42am): _hmm alright mi amor  
_ Damn Antonio (SENT 8:42am): _i’ll hug my turtle and pretend it’s u!!_

Me (SENT 8:43am): **If you were trying to be romantic there, you failed**

 

~

 

“Vee~ Lovi, it’s him!”

I looked up from my phone and followed the direction of where Feli was pointing. Sure enough, it was Nonno strolling out of the baggage claim: Prada shades, Versaci suit, and Armani shoes.

Damn it, why can’t he dress his fucking age? 

Once he spotted Feli’s incessant waving, Nonno immediately lit up, and that familiar Vargas grin appeared on his face. He sped up to meet us, and the employee behind him pulling his bag hurried along with him.

I stood a good few feet away from Feli with my arms crossed protectively, just to make sure I didn’t get caught up in –

“Oh Feli! _Mi sei mancato così tanto! Come stai_?” Grandpa cooed as he lifted Feli’s light frame into the air and circled him around.

Feli giggled, and answered, “ _Bene! Mi sei mancato anche tu_!”

Then Nonno dropped Feli to the floor and he glanced at me.

“Come here, Lovi!” He ordered happily, and I blushed when I caught strangers staring at our little family reunion.

I didn’t move a muscle, but Nonno was already pretty accustomed to that, so as usual he was the one to approach me and pull me into a smaller, less forceful hug than Feliciano. Which is fine. 

He still smelled like wine and cheese (I don’t know if that’s good thing or not), and somehow I had a pang of homesickness as I hugged him.

But I wouldn’t have that last too long, so I quickly pushed him off, and muttered, “ _Ciao Nonno_.”

“Ah, my grumpy little Lovi. How have you been?” He asked and ruffled my hair.

“Fine,” I replied automatically. Then after some thought, I corrected, “Good.”

Nonno smiled a bit wider, and laughed, “You may not be smiling Lovi, but you certainly look happier.” He pinched my cheek and added, “Now, if we could get you a tan.”

“Tsk,” I scoffed and pushed his hand away. “Whatever, should we go eat or what?”

“ _Non vedo l’ora_!” He shouted after me. “The last time I was in New York, I went to this amazing five-star restaurant. I was thinking we could drop off the bags and then go th –”

“Actually,” I interrupted and looked over my shoulder briefly. “Feli wanted to make lunch.”

“Really?”

“ _Si_! I have a meal planned out and everthing!”

There was a pause and I wondered what Nonno was thinking.

Then he burst into another fit of laughter and said, “Alright Feli! I can’t wait to try it! I’m sure it’ll be great!”

I rolled my eyes.

 

~

 

Damn Antonio (SENT 12:47pm): _i’m eating my burrito and thinking of u mi amor :D_

Me (SENT 12:49pm): **Think before you type idiota! Damn it  
** Me (SENT 12:49pm): **I certainly wasn’t thinking of you as I’m eating my gnocchi**

Damn Antonio (SENT 12:50pm): _ooooh gnocchi? P: that sounds muy delicioso! i want some!_

Me (SENT 12:51pm): **Right, well Feli made it, so yeah it is pretty damn good**

 

~

 

“So, Lovino…Who are you talking to?”

My eyes shot up from the phone in my lap, to Nonno sitting across the table.

“W-what?” I stuttered as I tried to replay what he just said.

He grinned mischievously. Shit, that’s where Feli gets it from.

“I asked who you were talking to.”

“Oh,” I flipped the phone over in my lap and picked up my fork again. “No one. Some one from class.”

“Really,” He hummed, and I caught him leaning over to Feli. “What do you think Feli?”

Fuck. No, Feli. No, no, no, no, no.

Feli beamed and said, “Vee~ I’m sure he’s talking to his boyfriend!”

“Boyfriend?” Nonno repeated, and now he turned to me wide-eyed.

I stared at him, and slowly my face reddened to darker, and hotter shades of red. I dropped my fork and covered my cheeks with my palms.

“Is that true, Lovino?” He asked, and I nervously darted my eyes from my plate back to him.

“Uh, no,” I lied automatically, and winced when Feli giggled. “W-well, maybe it k-kind of is…true.” My voice trailed off quieter, and I wished I could just disappear. Damn it, grandsons aren’t supposed to talk to their grandpas about relationships! I mean, Feli does – and that’s fucking weird – but normal people don’t!

Argh, and to make matters worse: Nonno’s a legendary Casanova. I know he was pining for gossip from Feli about my secretive, and previously nonexistent, love-life back in Italy; but after a while, I think he kind of gave up and left it alone. And now that I actually, well, I s-sort of have one – shit. He’s going to freak the fuck out.

Since Nonno still hadn’t said anything, I clenched my fists and said, “But Feli has one too!” 

Childish? Yes. But Feli’s an attention whore, so hopefully this’ll just keep th –

“Oh, I know about that. Feli’s told me about the German weeks ago,” Nonno waved his hand dismissively and smiled wickedly at me. “But he never said a thing about you.”

“I thought it would be a nice surprise!” Feli chimed in, and I finally managed to deliver a well-deserved glare at him.

“You thought what?”

“It is a nice surprise, Feli!” Nonno rested his hand on Feli’s shoulder and looked up wistfully. “Just imagine…our little virgin Lovino finally experiencing the pleasures of love and sex –”

“ _ZITTO_!” I screamed, and slammed my fists on the table. 

Nonno didn’t seem to get the message, because he just blinked out of my anger, and flashed another smile.

“Or have you already been awoken to all of the forbidden plea –”

“NO, GOD DAMN IT!” I shouted again, and shook the wine glasses with another hard slam to the table.

“Aw, I’m sorry,” Nonno apologized, but I knew he didn’t mean it the way I wanted him to. “I’m sure it’ll happen soon. Perhaps if you tried to initiate something by dressing a bit sexier?”

“N-NO!” I yelled, though that comment caught me a bit off guard. Is there something wrong with the way I dress? I mean, it’s not as if I have many options. I can’t go showing off lots of skin with the way I am.

But shit – why would I want to be sexy for that damn Spaniard anyway? That’s just…stupid.

“Well, you’ll come to me for advice when you want it. Feli’s come to me plenty of times, so he can tell you how experienced I am.”

“Bad phrasing,” I muttered and reluctantly sat back down in the chair.

“ _Si_ , your _nonno_ was quite the ladies man back in the day. And even now really,” He winked and I didn’t bother to hide my cringe. “Anyway, I think it might be fun to meet these two new lovers of yours. You two should invite them over for dinner tomorrow.”

“What?”

“Oh, yes! That would be amazing! Vee~” Feli sang and I shifted my gawk to him instead.

“Feli, no!” I shouted, and prayed to _Dio_ he’d understand why – the multiple reasons why.

Instead he cocked his head and smiled. “Why not _fratello_? It’ll be so much fun! You, me, Ludwig and Antonio…Ah, I can’t wait! I’ll make something extra delicious!”

“Antonio? Is that the name of your _amante_?” Nonno faced me curiously.

“He is not my fucking lover! He’s my boyf – I mean, te – er, shit.” I bit my lip. “He’s not my fucking lover, alright?”

“Is he Latin?”

“W-well, he’s Spanish,” I admitted sheepishly, and gritted my teeth to brave the reaction.

“Spanish? Well then he really is your _amante_! An excellent choice Lovino! All of the Spanish women I met were certainly as passionate as their country,” Nonno winked, and Feli laughed along. “So it took someone like that to snatch up our pristine, chaste, little Lovi –”

“Fuck – stop referring to me as your virgin kid already!” I yelled, and I swear my ears were so red I thought they were bleeding.

“Hm, alright. I don’t want to get you too angry. Your little matador might hunt me down,” Nonno joked, and laughed along with Feli as if he said something ridiculously funny.

“If only,” I mumbled and pushed around the remnants of gnocchi around on my plate. “Are you really expecting him to come to dinner tomorrow?”

Nonno looked at me as if I’m crazy. Me. “Of course! Why not?”

“Well, what if he’s…busy.”

“Oh, I’m sure he has enough time for dinner,” Nonno waved his hand dismissively. “What does he do for work? Or is he in school?”

Uh, both.

“H-he’s a,” I held the vowel as I searched for a lie. “He’s a Photographer. And musician.”

“Really? That’s impressive,” Nonno admitted and I breathed. “Though, every Spaniard is a musician. No one can play the guitar like them.”

“Uhuh.”

“Well then, that settles it! He should play the guitar for us too!”

“Yea – What?” I gaped, but Nonno just nodded enthusiastically.

I love hearing Antonio play the guitar, so it’s not really a problem for me, but Antonio…Would he mind? Does he get nervous for these sorts of things? Maybe not. I don’t know.

“O-kay,” I agreed hesitantly, and snuck a nervous glance at my phone.

“Excellent! I can’t wait to meet him now. A Spaniard will be fun to talk to,” Nonno said as he rose from the chair and stretched his arms. “Well, I’m going to take a nap since I’m pretty jetlagged. Is the guest room on the other side?” 

“ _Si_ , it’s this way! I’ll show you!” Feli exclaimed and hopped off of his chair enthusiastically.

They both skipped away – Nonno never failing to muss my hair as he wandered by – and left me alone at the dinner table.

 

~

 

Maybe I should’ve called, or texted Antonio about the dinner tomorrow, or just contacted him in general; but somehow, I couldn’t. For stupid, inexplicable reasons, Nonno’s words keep echoing in my head, and I’m just…embarrassed.

I mean, shit. I know I’ve always been different than Feli: always more awkward, angry, impulsive, and shy. But I also thought I was at least the more mature one in the family. I didn’t think it was the other way around.

And maybe it’s stupid to be obsessing over some stupid, meaningless teasing, but I can’t help but wonder if Antonio feels like he’s dating a…child or something. It’s not as if we have a “normal” relationship. I sure as hell fucked up any chance of that. All I’ve done for Antonio is put his job in jeopardy, drag him around like some needy kid, and probably scar him for life with my fucking drama. Damn it, why does he even stay? How is it even worth it for him?

I’m not fun to be around, I don’t really help him, and it’s not as if he’s staying because he’s attracted to me or some shit. How can he be? I’m just damaged goods at this point. It’s not as if Nonno’s advice of dressing sexier would help. Hell, that’d turn him away.

And shit – it’s not as if this is the first time I’m worrying about the s-sex part. I didn’t need my fucking promiscuous family to help me out with that. I thought about it when we started dating, I thought about it when we got closer, and I completely freaked about it when I thought about all of the scars Antonio would see. I’m accustomed to them so really, I don’t think they’re that bad anymore, but to him…they’d probably be hideous.

But whatever. Even aside from the s-sex part, Feli obviously has obviously given his future some thought. I know he completely ditched the art career and flitted away to chef school, but at least he has a plan. At least he has some sort of end-goal or something. It may be opening a bakery or restaurant with the potato bastard, but hell, that’s more than what I have.

I’m in school and it’s fine. I do it because I need to do art no matter what, but the only reason I tolerate it is because Antonio’s there. I’ve never really liked schools all that much. But what the fuck am I going to do after? Actually, what the fuck is going to happen next semester? The whole teacher-student relationship can’t last forever. I can’t keep dragging Antonio down forever…

_Knock, knock_

“Vee~ _fratello_! Are you ready to go?” Feliciano called, but the door was locked so he could only jiggle the doorknob before resorting to more knocks.

I sighed. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

His footsteps faded away towards the kitchen.

I took a moment to stare at the blade in my hand. Although I was able to sleep at some point, those goddamn thoughts flooded back as soon as I opened my eyes again and I was absolutely fed up with them. I wanted quiet. I wanted to stop feeling so much.

So I grabbed the blade that rested on the very top shelf of the closet – one of the three still hidden around – and held it to my hip. I could’ve done it. Maybe I should’ve done it. But I didn’t.

Instead, I took out my wallet, and slid the blade behind my credit card as a precaution. I know Antonio doesn’t like it, but it just makes me feel better to have one with me.

Just in case.

Then I grabbed my messenger bag and unlocked the door.

 

~

 

“Do you think I should tell Luddy to wear a suit?”

“He’ll probably wear one anyway.”

“Vee~ you’re right. He sounded really nervous about meeting Nonno when I talked to him on the phone yesterday, so he’ll probably wear the most expensive suit he has!” Feli giggled.

“I doubt it’ll be any good,” I muttered and kept my stare to the ground as we neared the school building.

“Aw, that’s not true! Luddy cares a lot about how he looks! And I’ve been teaching him about Italian fashion lately. He seems really interested in it,” Feli pressed, but I disregarded him with a roll of my eyes.

“I guess we’ll see then.”

He didn’t say anything to that, and I briefly wondered what Antonio would wear.

Then, as if he were fucking psychic, Feli asked, “So what do you think Toni will wear?”

I jumped. “Uh, h-how the fuck should I know?” Shit, I really should’ve told him about this yesterday. Why couldn’t I find the energy to pick up a goddamn phone?

“Well he is your _amant_ –”

“SHUT UP!” I interrupted quickly and a few of the loitering students gawked at us. I ignored them and pointed to Feli. “No using that word anymore. Got that? It’s forbidden.”

He pouted. “Aww, but it’s so cute! I thought it suited you two so well!”

I scoffed as we started our ascent up the steps. What the hell is he going on about?

“You two are so loving, and you care so passionately about each other I think you can only call each other lovers!” Feli finished happily, and my face was flushed from my cheeks to my ears.

“Th-that’s just – fuck, y-you’re so stupid. Th-that’s not true at all,” I mumbled, and kept my face hidden as I pushed open the front door.

Feli followed too closely and peered at my face.

If he had continued with some other stupidly, inaccurate comment I would’ve felt better, but instead he had to give me one of his all-knowing, cryptic smiles and musical hums in response.

He can be such a bitch sometimes.

I thought I was finally over my incessant blushing and haunting thoughts, but now that I was reminded, that was everything that was on my mind when I saw Antonio pushing open his front door.

In a moment his eyes locked onto mine and he flashed a dazzling, excited smile. The fact that his entire face lit up like a fucking Christmas tree did not help my blushing problem, and by the time he was a few steps away my face was beetroot.

“Lovi!” He cooed, and his body leaned forward. Although I wasn’t looking up, I thought he was about to hug me, and I was surprised when I didn’t feel the annoying comfort. He quickly continued, “H-how are you? It was so lonely without you in class.”

I crossed my arms and lifted my chin. “I’m fine. And it looks like you survived, so stop complaining, bastard.”

Feli already brushed past me with a giggle along with a few other students, and when I decided to go ahead and follow them, Antonio held me back with a strong grip on my arm.

“What is it?” I snapped and glared at him.

His smile made my anger fade, and the embarrassment burn again. Damn him.

“Can you help me get something for the class?” He asked and pulled on my arm anyway.

I knew this was a trap so we could talk with each other – Feli and I did arrive a good bit before class was supposed to start – but I decided to follow along anyway. Even twenty-four hours without the idiot felt like too much.

So I nodded my head once and he led me down the hall, into that same accursed studio everyone seems to flock to nowadays, and closed the door behind us.

“Alright bastard, we’re alone now, so what is it you wanted t – hey! What the fuck? Get off!” I shouted in protest when Antonio suddenly grabbed me by the waist and hugged me close.

It wasn’t just hugging, Antonio was also swinging me back and forth and cooing continuous, “Oh, Lovi I’ve missed you so much! Being without you for a day was just too long! _Mi amor! Mi querido! Mi tomatito!_ ”

I felt like a fucking stuffed animal again.

“D-damn it, Antonio!” I yelled weakly, and rested my hands hesitantly on his shoulders. I pushed him at first, but the longer he hugged me the more of my resistance fell, until finally, I hugged him back realizing how much I missed him too. I always miss him, goddamn it. And it’s no surprise I do when he acts as ridiculously stupid as this. It just surprises me each time that he’s as excited to see me.

Antonio stopped cooing, and I angled myself to stare at him in suspicion. I only caught a glimpse of his bright green eyes before he leaned against me and kissed me fervently on the lips. It felt…strange. In a good way. But it was just much more passionate than I was expecting so early in the morning.

But it was also quick, and just as I was ready to start kissing back, he pulled away, damn it!

Antonio quickly laughed a funny, short sound and said, “ _Lo siento_ , Lovi. I didn’t mean to spring that on you. I just – I wanted to do that as soon as I saw you, and I couldn’t hold back.” He laughed again, but a bit more carelessly and smiled.

“Whatever,” I mumbled and broke away.

Antonio chuckled for some dumb reason and tucked some of my hair behind my ear. “So how was it?”

“What?”

“Picking up your grandfather.”

“Oh,” I blushed and tried to cover my cheek with my hand. “Uh, yeah it was fine. But, um, h-he kind of wants you to come to dinner tonight.” I closed me eyes and braced myself for his reaction.

“Really?” He exclaimed, and I looked up.

“Wh-why the fuck do you look so excited?” I yelled and shoved him in the chest. Antonio’s green eyes sparkled at me. “Do you think this is a good thing?”

“Well, _si_ of course! I get to meet your family! This way I can charm him and get his blessing and –”

“Who said anything about a fucking blessing?” I snapped, and my blush burned my skin. When Antonio laughed I just felt my face heat up even more and I turned away. “Whatever. That’s not what he wants to give you anyway. He probably just wants to embarrass us for an hour and listen to you play guitar. Then he’ll make some more goddamn comments about my sex-life before he finally turns the teasing towards Feli’s potato bastard of a boyfriend. Who he obviously should’ve been making fun of in the first place.”

I exhaled in frustration after my rant and waited for Antonio to laugh or comment.

When he didn’t say anything, I turned towards him again and demanded, “What is it, bastard?”

Antonio looked at me curiously, his eyes glinting, and repeated, “Your sex-life?”

I didn’t think my face could get any redder. “Shit. Fuck. Th-that’s not – damn it! Just forget you heard that. It’s all my fucking family’s fault anyway. They planted these thoughts in my head and I can’t get them out. Just…” I stared at him until I realized Antonio was smiling. He was fucking smiling at me like I wasn’t having a panic attack explaining this to him!

So I shut my mouth and started stalking away towards the door.

Antonio quickly grasped my arm however, and I grumbled my complaints when he tugged me back to him.

“ _Lo siento_ Lovi, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I just thought that was rather funny,” He said as he pet my hair.

“What?”

“Just that your family talks about things like that. I didn’t realize you were all so close.”

“We are not fucking close! I don’t talk about things like that by choice. They’re the ones that always throw it in my face!” I shouted. “But shit, you’ll find out for yourself tonight anyway.”

Antonio laughed again and rubbed my back reassuringly. After an awkward moment, he spoke up again, but his voice was strangely different. “But um, what could they talk about with you, because it’s not like we’ve…”

“Oh _Dio_ ,” I whined and hid my face in my hands. “Just drop it already. I can’t talk about this anymore.”

Surprisingly, Antonio didn’t complain or pine for more. Instead he gave me one last hug and whispered, “Alright _querido_ , I won’t. Just relax, okay. Everything’s fine.”

I took a deep breath and nodded my head.

Damn it, I really am a kid, aren’t I?

 

~

 

Since it was Tuesday ( _grazie al cielo_ ), I only had one fucking class to deal with. It was sort of awkward for half of it however, because Alfred kept gossiping about his “art date,” or whatever the fuck it's called, he had with his weird British boyfriend. He kept passing drawings and sketches around too. I’m not sure if this bushy-eyebrowed guy deserves all the attention he’s getting.

“I don’t get it. What the hell does the hamburger bastard see in this guy?” I asked Feli and passed the sketch to him.

Feli giggled and took a look. “Vee~ I think he’s interesting! He’s probably very smart.”

“Sure, but it’s not like the bastard knew that when he saw him. I mean he keeps going on and on about how he fell in love at first sight with _this_!” I pointed to the drawing again. “I just don’t get it!”

“ _Amore_ works in mystical ways, Lovi,” Feli said with a smile. “I mean, you thought Antonio was silly, but you still fell in love with him.”

“I said stupid and idiotic, not silly,” I clarified with as much dignity as I could muster, and tried hard to keep my face hidden behind my palms.

“But you still fell in love with him, right?” Feli pressed.

“Shut up! People can hear us!” I snapped, but I knew everyone was too busy with Alfred to pay attention to us.

Feli knew it too, because he only raised an eyebrow and poked me. “Come on, fratello. Just admit it!”

“Damn it – fine! I did!" I half-shouted and raised my hands. Then I folded my arms over the desk and looked away sadly. "Who the fuck knows why he fell in love with me though…” 

I felt Feli’s eyes on me, and I thought he might say something to reassure me – God knows I needed it – but before he had a chance to, Alfred appeared.

“Hey there mini-me! How goes it?” He asked and flashed me his broad American smile.

“The same,” I deadpanned and gave him a cold glare.

“Good to hear my man. Nice to know your love is still going strong. Keep sticking it to the man!”

“Stick it to the what? What the hell does that even mean?”

“Oh, sorry. I guess that’s an American expression,” He gave a half-hearted shrug, and I knew that meant he wasn’t going to explain it to me, God damn it. “But anyway, have you heard what’s up with me?”

“ _Si_ , we have! You’ve finally found your muse!” Feli exclaimed and I rolled me eyes.

“Sure have!” Alfred laughed and I caught a light blush over his sun-kissed cheeks. “Although, it’s not like we’re going steady yet. We’ve only met up once. Though as soon as I get a new phone I’m going to text him!”

“What happened to your old phone?” Feli asked.

“Oh, well. I was having a bit of a Jackson Pollock session in my apartment the other day, and I might’ve, kind of, gotten a bit of paint on it. Yeah,” Alfred chuckled as if the whole thing were actually funny. “But anyway, I’ll get a new one and then Artie and I will hang out again! Maybe I’ll even invite him here! Wouldn’t that be cool?”

“Si, I’d love to meet him!” Feli said.

“Whatever,” I added and hoped he would finally go away.

He didn’t, and instead something else seemed to light the bastard’s blue eyes. “Oh yeah, there was something else that I wanted to tell you guys. Did ‘ya know I’m leavin’?

“Yep, Antonio told me,” I said quickly, in vain hopes of dismissing the topic.

“Ah, but did he tell you why?” Alfred winked at me.

“He said it was in Indian references.”

“ _Indiana Jones_ references,” Alfred corrected and sighed in exasperation. He’s fucking exasperated. “Man mini-me, if we’re going to hang out, you really need to brush up on American culture. It’s like you don’t know half of what I’m sayin’!”

I glared at him and muttered, “No shit.”

“But anyway, back to what I was talking about, I’m leaving to fulfill Van Gogh’s dream!”

Wait… “What the fuck does that mean?” I shouted and slammed my fist against the table. “Seriously, you have to stop talking in fucking riddles!”

“This one ain’t a riddle though! You should know what Van Gogh’s dream was. You studied him, right?” Alfred looked to me expectantly and I frantically searched through my memories so I didn’t look like a complete fool.

Feli, of fucking course, got there first and said, “Oh, are you talking about the art colony?”

“Right on little man! Yeah, Van Gogh always dreamed of a place where the artists of the time would live and work together – supporting each other and learning from each other too!” Alfred exclaimed, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen his eyes glitter as much as they do now. “He actually bought a place to get started, for him and Gaugin, and he had this plan to decorate it and everything. But then Gaugin was totally a jerk and bailed and it never ended up working out.”

“Vee~ so sad!”

“Yeah, but I’m totally going to fulfill his dream, man! I’m going to buy a place, call it The Yellow House Studio, and start a super cool artist colony!”

“When you say colony, just how many fucking people are you planning on inviting?” I asked.

“Oh, probably not that many. Maybe a few at first and see how that works out. But calling it a colony makes it sound totally rad though, doesn’t it?” Alfred looked at Feli and I for approval, and Feli gave him a vigorous nod.

“Sounds stupid,” I mumbled and twirled my pencil absentmindedly. Even fucking Alfred has his future figured out.

“Aw, really man? You don’t like it?”

I scowled.

“Well shoot, I was kinda hoping you could start it up with me.”

“Yeah, well keep dreaming bastard, I’m not – wait. What?!” I yelled and gawked at him.

“Yeah, I was hoping you would be the Gaugin to my Van Gogh,” He said wistfully and gave me a playful smile.

“Don’t say shit like that. It sounds weird. Not to mention if Antonio catches you saying that he’s going to think something different,” I said and imagined Alfred being knocked out by Antonio. If there was ever a time…

“Aw, come on. Don’t be like that. You know what I mean! I think you and I could start a totally cool studio! I could be your sensei and teach you my ways, and before you know it we’ll be the coolest artists in New York!”

“Everything works so well in your mind, doesn’t it?” I countered with a firm frown. But secretly I tried to imagine it. I may find Alfred annoying as hell, but it’s also pretty fucking obvious he’s a prodigy. Maybe it’d be good for me to work with him, and when I say work with him, I mean _work with him_. As equals damn it!

And if I did go along with his little dream, I would probably have to quit school. But that’s not a big problem, is it? I mean, although we haven’t talked about it, it kind of goes without saying that either Antonio or I need to move out of the school if we want to keep going out. And shit – I can’t put Antonio on the streets, busking for a living. Even if the matador outfit does get _some_ money.

“Well mini-me, what do you think?” Alfred asked and suddenly I realized he was way too close.

I shoved him away quickly and crossed my arms. “I’ll think about it.”

“Really? Holy cow, that’s way better than what I thought you’d say!” Alfred exclaimed and exchanged a high five with Feli. He was about to jog away when he turned to me and added, “Oh, but can you sort of think quickly? I found an awesome studio to use, and I can pay for some of it with the money I got from my past few commissions, but…I kind of need your help for the rest.” He laughed and offered me a meek smile.

“Shit – you fucking, manipulating bastard! I’ll think about paying for your stupid apartment in your dreams!” I shouted after him and rose from my seat.

Alfred laughed as he ran away and said, “As long as you’re thinking about it!”

“That bastard,” I mumbled and slowly sat back down in the chair. “Can you believe he wanted to use me for my money.”

Feli met my eyes and he cocked his head to the side. “He’s not using you. Didn’t you hear him? He wants you to help.”

“Yeah, _for my fucking money_. He’s just inviting me in so I’ll pay for his studio.”

“That’s not true! Alfred really likes you, and he’s always going on about how talented you are. Maybe you should think about it,” Feli placated and I glared at him.

“Whatever,” I muttered and twirled my pencil again.

 

~

 

After class I tried to give Antonio instructions on how to dress nicely. There was only so much I could do though, since Antonio’s wardrobe is pretty abysmal, but I tried. He said he might try to borrow something from his friends, which I quickly limited down to the French bastard, because he’s the only idiot with taste.

But he never did tell me what he picked out, so now that it’s almost time for him to come over, I’m a bit nervous. Then again, I doubt Nonno will spend more than ten minutes making fun of his outfit if it’s bad, so Antonio can probably handle that.

_DING DONG_

At the sound of the doorbell I nearly jumped out off of the barstool to check on the door. I didn’t even bother to check the peephole before I swung it open full-force. But standing across from me was one of the last people I’d hoped it would be.

“ _Ciao_ potato bastard. You’re early,” I said disdainfully and gave his outfit a once over. Well, at least Feli seems to be breaking through to him. “Nice suit.”

Ludwig seemed all too pleased by my offhand compliment and his cheeks dusted pink in embarrassment. Well, at least there’ll be one other person as flustered as I am.

“Th-thanks Lovino. You look nice as well. Um, is Feli around somewhere?” Ludwig said as he searched the room.

I rolled my eyes and let him in. “He’s finishing dinner if you want to go help him.”

At the mention of cooking, his body stood at attention and he walked briskly by me with a quick, “Of course. Thank you.”

“Yeah, well. What’d you expect?” I asked rhetorically and shut the door.

Damn. Now it’s just Feli, the potato bastard, and Nonno – though he’s still in his room getting ready. I swear to God if Antonio’s late I’m going to be more than fucking pissed. I’m going to –

_DING DONG_

My body jerked around and immediately swung the door open again. This time, it was Antonio standing on the other side. He was smiling happily and fixing the strap of his guitar case over his shoulder. I almost smiled back when I realized he was wearing a suit. A fucking suit.

Fortunately I caught myself, but I was too slow to hide the excitement in my eyes, because Antonio seemed to quickly catch on and grinned wider.

“Do you like?” He asked playfully and I narrowed my eyes.

“It’s decent,” I said simply and held the door open for him to walk in.

Antonio stopped by my side and wagged his eyebrows. “Just decent?”

A warm blush crept over my cheeks and I muttered, “Yes, just decent. Now get a move on. Feli’s getting dinner ready!”

“Aw, Lovi. How about a kiss first?” He pleaded and leaned forward until I caught the fruity scent of the stupid lotion he bought.

“N-no way! Not when my grandpa is around the fucking corne –”

“Lovi!” Nonno’s familiar accent called and I twisted around to see him standing near the dining room table looking fairly amused.

“Oh shit,” I breathed.

“Is that your grandpa?” Antonio asked quickly and I nodded. Quietly, I heard him add, “He looks so young.”

Then in a moment, Antonio took a few confident steps forward and extended his hand.

“ _Hola_ , my name’s Antonio. I’m Lovino’s b –”

“ _Amante._ Trust me, I know,” Nonno shook his hand and made a show of winking at me.

“For fuck’s sake, will you please stop using that word?” I yelled and stomped my way towards the kitchen to get the bottle of wine.

“Oh, that’s an Italian word too? Does it mean the same thing?” Antonio asked innocently.

“ _Si_ , it does.”

“Really? That’s so cute! Lovi, why don’t you like it?”

“Shit, not you too!” I groaned and unplugged a bottle of red wine. “It just sounds strange or I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. I said that word is forbidden, and I mean it God damn it!”

“Alright Lovi, I heard you the first time,” Nonno laughed, and returned his attention back to Antonio. “So then Toni, if you like you can just call me Roma. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too! You know, I thought maybe you’d look like Lovi, but you don’t really.”

“ _Si_ , well Lovi takes after his mother a good bit. Feli takes more after my side,” Nonno answered easily and waved towards the table. “You can sit down if you like. I think dinner is almost ready. Right Feli?”

“ _Si_ , it is!”

“Oh, who’s that you have with you?”

“This is Luddy!” Feli announced, and pushed the potato bastard forward to shake hands with Nonno.

I decided to ignore their little scene and take my bottle and glass of wine to the table. Antonio already sat down at one of the seats and set his guitar behind him. I slid onto the chair next to him and sighed.

“Enjoying yourself?” I asked and took a large gulp of the wine. At least it’s expensive.

Antonio kept his hands folded in his lap like a schoolboy and looked at me. “ _Si_ , of course! Your grandfather’s very nice.”

“He’s very something…” I muttered and raised the glass to my lips again.

Antonio stared at me blankly. “Lovi, um, you’ve never said anything about it, but what happened to your mother?”

My eyes widened and I lowered the glass to the table. “Oh, well she died while giving birth to Feli and I so…I guess since I never really knew her, I don’t usually bring her up.” I fidgeted with my fingers and figured I’d answer the unasked question too. “A-and she never married our dad, so Feli and I never knew who he was.”

Hesitantly, I turned to my right, and looked at Antonio. His eyes were soft and understanding and he tentatively reached out to grasp my hand under the table. It was embarrassing, but I let him, and tried to hide my red face in my free hand.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, and I bit my lip.

I don’t know why he sounded so sad. I said it was a long time ago. It doesn’t mean anything. And my dad can go to hell for all I care. I don’t care about either of them.

“It’s fine,” I replied and curled my fingers against my lip. But damn it, if it doesn’t mean anything, why the do I feel like crying right now?

Antonio squeezed my hand and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek. “ _Te quiero_ Lovi.”

I sucked in a large breath and managed to fend off any tears. It’s all Antonio’s fault. The fact that he cares so much…it just makes me want to cry sometimes. I don’t understand.

 

~

 

“So Antonio, do you ever go back to Spain to visit?”

Antonio looked up from his lasagna. “Oh, sometimes. I haven’t been back for a while though. The last time was a few years ago, and I took my friends to Barcelona to show them around. I also stopped in Florence actually!”

“Really? Did you like it?”

“I did! I liked it a lot! We travelled a lot in Italy, but Florence always stood out to me,” Antonio said and I looked up from my third glass to see his eyes sparkling.

“You should come back then!” Nonno announced and I coughed on my sip of wine. “Lovino should bring you back to _Firenze_ for _Natale_! Feli can bring Ludwig too!”

“That would be _maravilloso_! Oh, I’d love to spend Christmas with Lovi,” Antonio cooed and wrapped his arm around my shoulder to nuzzle his nose near my neck. “We’d have so much fun!”

“Vee~ Luddy I can show you all of my favorite restaurants! And the _gelaterias_! We could eat so much together!” Feli exclaimed.

Ludwig seemed too flustered to know what to say, but somehow he managed a weak, “Yes, that sounds very interesting. It’s kind of you to offer.” Oddly, it seems the bastard is more intimidated by Nonno than Antonio is. But than again, Antonio’s never been very good at sensing things.

“ _Si_ , it would be a lot of fun to have more people! I always bring home a lady friend, and sometimes Feli has someone, but it’s never very many people. I like having big parties! The house is too big to go unused,” Nonno boasted and I pursed my lips in disapproval. “And don’t worry, you lovebirds can have your privacy. I live on a separate wing, so I’d never be the one to disturb you.”

“Nonno!” I yelled, mortified, and gave him a harsh glare.

“What? All I said was that you and your _amante_ could have a room together. Surely by then you’ll need i –”

“ _Zitto! Per favore, smettila!_ ” I interrupted again and pressed my hands to my burning hot ears. This is everything that haunted me last night coming back full force.

Fortunately for me, Feli swooped into the conversation, maybe for once sensing my distress. “Vee~ Nonno, do you think Luddy and I can stay in the blue room that overlooks the vineyard? That might be my favorite!”

And just like that, Nonno’s attention was diverted, and I was quickly left alone with my embarrassment. Which was soon made about a hundred times worse when I remembered Antonio was sitting right next to me.

He didn’t even let me suffer and silence, and instead leaned to my side and asked, “Is that what happened yesterday?”

“K-kind of. It was something like that and they tried to give me a-advice.”

“Advice for what?” He looked at me curiously.

“Wh-what do you think bastard?” I whispered harshly and I felt my blush crawl down my neck.

Understanding seemed to light Antonio’s green eyes, and his lips turned up in a mischievous smile. “Oh, I see.” His gaze flitted over my face, and it made me want to hide. Then he added, “That’s kind of cute.”

“What? It is not cute. It’s embarrassing and unnecessary. They just like to mess with me since I’m – fuck, nevermind.” I picked up the bottle of wine and frowned at the realization it was empty. I can feel the tingling, dizzy sensations of alcohol in my veins, but damn it, it’s the only way I can cope with this, so I push my chair out to hunt for another bottle of wine.

Feli and the rest looked briefly in my direction, and they seemed to understand what I was searching for.

“Oh Lovino, grab the bottle I brought back from Rome! It’s _delizioso_!” Nonno called after me and I waved my hand in recognition.

As I stumbled towards the kitchen, my head felt surprisingly light, and I had to concentrate on keeping my walk normal. Then suddenly I felt a hand on my hip, and I looked to my side to see Antonio guiding me.

He grinned down at me. “Lovino, I think you might be a bit drunk.”

“I am not! I’m Italian. Italians don’t get drunk,” I replied and grabbed onto Antonio’s shirt when I tripped.

That just pleased him though, and he looked at me with a triumphant smile. “I think you are, _mi amor_. Maybe you should just leave the wine for Roma and I, hm?”

“What? I’m not a kid! I can handle my damn wine!” I shouted and pushed myself off of him to walk the rest of the way to the counter. When I reached it, I slowly wrapped my fingers around the new bottle – to prove I was sober enough to find it – and concentrated as hard as I could to bring it close to my chest. “See?”

“Very good, Lovi!” Antonio applauded and I smirked at him. Then swiftly he snatched the bottle from my hands and held it to his side. “But maybe this is safer with me.”

“Hey!” I snapped a bit too loudly, but controlling my voice wasn’t so easy right now. “Damn it, I hate that you see me as a helpless kid!”

Antonio cocked his head to the side and stared at me. “What do you mean?”

I instinctively wrapped my fingers around my left forearm and gripped tightly. “You just – I’m not…I can’t help but think that you don’t see me as…” My voice trailed off helplessly, unsure of what I meant. My nails pressed through the fabric of my sleeve and into the skin. “W-we don’t have a normal relationship, and sometimes I feel like you just don’t see me as your l-lover or whatever.”

Fuck. After all of that complaining, I end up using that accursed word. It’s the wine’s fault, I swear.

I heard the bottle clank back against the counter, and I looked up to see Antonio set it down. Then he stepped towards me and gently unwrapped my fingers from around my forearm.

I didn’t let him finish before I snatched them away and tucked them behind my back ashamed. “See? I’m pathetic…”

“Lovi, please don’t say that,” Antonio said quickly and he cupped my face with his hands, forcing me to look at him. “You must know that’s not what I think. I’ve always tried to reassure you that I don’t see you that way. You may be in pain, but I’ve never looked down on you. I’ve only ever wanted to help you, just like you help me. That’s what lovers do.”

“D-don’t say that word,” I muttered quietly, and Antonio breathed a short laugh.

“But you said it,” He whispered and brushed his hand over my forehead to move my bangs back in place.

“Only I can say it, bastard,” I ordered and poked him in the chest to make a point.

“Alright,” He said easily, and stared at me again. “Is that all that’s been bothering you?”

I flicked my eyes away, and it as even more horrifying that Antonio could feel my cheeks heat up through his hands. “W-well, after I was talking with Feli and Nonno yesterday, I k-kind of got worried that maybe you weren’t really…a-attracted to me.”

Antonio blinked and his face broke into laughter. “What?”

If possible, I felt even more ashamed now, and I finally made the move to push Antonio’s hands away from my face. “Damn it, d-don’t make fun of me! I have the right to be freaking out about this! I m-mean, my face isn’t as cute as Feli’s a-and…you know my body isn’t nice to look at either.”

I wasn’t looking at him, but I knew Antonio was smiling. I could feel it in the air. Then I felt his hand briefly caressing my cheek, and I hesitantly glanced at him.

“Lovino, I could tell you a thousand ways how beautiful you are, but I tried to prove it to you with a picture, so you could see it too,” He said softly and his feather-light touches against my cheek just made me redden more.

“It was a lie,” I replied stubbornly.

“The camera never lies, Lovi. You know that.”

I bit my lip before I asked the next question. “B-but then why does it never seem like you are? I-I mean, you’ve never tried or asked to go further or anything.”

Antonio’s eyes twinkled, and his smile broadened playfully. He leaned forward, and his lips grazed my cheek. Then he whispered, “Just because I haven’t said anything, doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about it.”

My face flushed, and I felt so hot I couldn’t tell if I was more relieved or angry. But I couldn’t help but continue with another embarrassing demand, “S-so I’m a-attractive to you?”

“You are,” He repeated near my ear and pulled away to look into my eyes. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. _Te prometo_.”

“O-okay,” I mumbled. 

Antonio seemed to sense I was still waiting for something, and he added, “I thought maybe we should wait until we weren’t teacher and student anymore. That’s why I never said anything.”

I closed my eyes in embarrassment. Damn it, of course he’d think that! He’s too nice. Argh, Lovino, get your head out of the gutter!

“But you know, I’m kind of happy you said something. I thought I was the only one who was looking forward to it.”

“Shit – I never said I was looking forward to it!” I snapped and tried my best to give him a convincing glare.

Antonio raised a brow and leaned forward. “Is that a challenge?”

I opened my mouth to yell a resounding no, but I stared into his lively green eyes and clenched my fist. It’s the wine, I know it.

“Yes.”

Antonio grinned and swooped into kiss me so fast I fell back against the counter, and much to his satisfaction, I was compelled to wrap my arms around him just to keep myself from falling. Maybe he was holding back before, because this time Antonio leaned full force into me, and I felt so breathless and invigorated at the same time. It was addicting.

After Antonio broke away from my lips to kiss my cheeks and everywhere near, I vaguely heard sounds coming from somewhere. But between the kisses and the alcohol, I couldn’t really understand what was going on, and I felt so hot and my breath was so short everything seemed to grow darker and darker.

Then I felt a short breeze, like I was falling, and someone caught me. Through my heavy, frantic blinking I saw Antonio and Nonno, and then it was black.

 

~

 

Sometime later – I couldn’t tell if it was seconds, minutes, or hours – I awoke, and my lashes fluttered as they adjusted to the florescent light. I heard giggling and snickering, but I tried to focus on where I was. When I finally managed to make out the fan twirling above me I knew I was in my room, then I looked in the direction the noise was coming from.

Feli looked down at me slightly worried, but he still let a short giggle escape his lips. “Lovi, how are you feeling?”

“Fine,” I muttered and massaged my head. “Did I pass out or something?”

Nonno coughed on a loud chuckle. “ _Si_ , you really did.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why is that so funny? I’ve seen you fall on your ass plenty of times when you’re drunk!”

That just made him laugh more, and Feli joined him.

“What the hell is it?” I demanded and hit my fists against the mattress in frustration.

Then Antonio burst through the door carrying a glass of water and he smiled when he saw me sitting up.

“You’re awake!” He exclaimed and rushed to my side.

He pushed the glass into my hands and I only half paid attention to him as I tried to shut down my ridiculous guffawing family with an evil glare.

It didn’t work and I turned to Antonio. “What the hell are they laughing about?”

“Oh,” Antonio’s face brightened. “They think it’s funny I made you faint, I think.”

“You made me what?” I stared at him, and dread filled my stomach.

Antonio puffed up proudly. “ _Si_ , well I think because you were already fairly drunk, I kissed you probably a bit too passionately, and you fainted in my arms.”

All of the dread crawled up to my face and painted my cheeks red. “Th-that can’t be true.”

“It is! Your grandpa was there and he saw everything!” Antonio exclaimed happily, like this was something great to brag about. That stupid, fucking idiot.

“I did, Lovi,” Nonno said between laughs and he looked at me in victorious joy. “Now I know for certain he’s your _amante_.”

I don’t know what was worse. The fact that he said that forbidden word again, or…

That I couldn’t find a way to disagree with him anymore.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahahaha. The ending. Damn, that cheered me up. I just had to write it.
> 
> Anyway, the next chapter won't take as long, I promise! And I can promise that because I made sure I started it before this was published, so go me haha. 
> 
> And yeah, if everything stays on track there will be one more chapter and then the epilogue. We're almost there guys! :D
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! You're all wonderful!
> 
> P.S. If you need something to read in the meantime, I published a fluffy Spamano one-shot called Bad Hair Day. Feel free to check it out! :D


	18. The City of Ambition, Alfred Stieglitz, 1910. Camera work photogravure, gelatin silver print. (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Only when he no longer knows what he's doing does the painter do good things." -Edgar Degas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally. We're at the end. Ah, it feels bittersweet. I have more to say, but as you can probably see, I published this chapter, along with the epilogue (since it's pretty damn short), so I'll make my formal goodbyes and thank you there.
> 
> Thanks for reading :) See you at the end of chapter nineteen.

(Lovino’s POV)

 

 

 

My insufferable humiliation at dinner was, well, insufferable. But there was at least one benefit from it, and that was it distracted Nonno from any other topics of conversation. Thankfully, that included any mention of school, my career/or lack thereof, and my uncertain future. Which was a hell of a relief, and allowed me some time to think on Alfred’s stupid, idiotic words, and Feli’s nicer translation of them.

At the same time however, it did allow Nonno to just bombard me with sarcastic remarks about my relationship, comparing me to a Vestal Virgin, and fucking – just a lot of damn teasing! It ended when I started throwing shit, but it took a lot to get his attention. And the fact that Feli only laughed along didn’t help matters. It just encouraged him.

I was starting to wonder if Feli was ever going to tell him about his career change though. He hinted at it, sure. With all his mentions of, “oh, Nonno, have you tried this?” Or, “let me make breakfast, I have a new recipe!” And, “Nonno, Luddy brought over an apple strudel, you need to try it!”

But it was all beating around the bush, and he never flat out said it, so during class on Thursday – while Antonio was hanging out at our table doodling stupid pictures of who knows what – I decided to ask him.

“Feli, are you planning on telling Nonno anytime soon? He has to know at some point, right?” I pointed out and took a sip of my Coffee Frappuccino.

Feli glanced up from his phone. “Oh, I know! I was planning on telling him at the Art Show!”

“Crushing his dreams at their highest point, huh?”

Feliciano giggled. “No, I don’t think that’ll happen! I think when he sees my artwork he’ll understand. It’s just not passionate anymore.” He shrugged his shoulders and looked at me brightly. “He’s also bringing a date, and will probably drink a lot of wine, so I think it’s a safe time.”

“Ah, and there it is,” I nodded my head. “For a second there I was worried you were turning into a wise old man again. And fucking – Antonio! Stop stealing my drink you bastard! You have your own!” I swiped my drink back and held it far away from his long arm.

He looked at me with wide, pleading green eyes. “Aw, but Lovi I already finished mine!”

“Not my problem. Get a smaller appetite fatass.”

Antonio completely ignored my insult, and offered his best, seductive smile. “Isn’t it more romantic to share a drink anyway?”

“No,” I deadpanned and moved the cup onto the empty seat next to me. Antonio pouted and I smirked in response. Served him right. After that fucking dinner, Antonio’s been walking around with a big head and – although sometimes his confidence can be kind of, sort of, a little, little bit a-attractive – it’s also annoying as hell. He’s convinced he can make me swoon whenever he wants, and that’s just not how it is. I was drunk, damn it!

“Vee~ look, it’s Alfred’s muse!” Feli said quickly and I stopped glaring at Antonio to turn my head.

“Oh, it is,” I muttered and eyed the obviously uncomfortable Brit, standing awkwardly near the entrance. “What kind of clothes is he wearing?”

“I think they’re cute!”

“He’s trying too hard.”

“Poor Arthur, he looks kind of shy,” Antonio smiled softly, and I narrowed my eyes in confusion.

“Why the hell do you care if he’s shy?” I snapped and crossed my arms over my chest.

Antonio looked at me, and his eyes glittered tenderly. He didn’t have to say anything, I knew what he meant. And the sudden compassion made me flush in embarrassment and I looked down to fumble with my fingers.

Under my breath I mumbled, “Let’s just hope Alfred is a-as n-nice as you.” I tried to be quiet enough so that Antonio didn’t hear me, but when I heard his breathy, light chuckle I knew with certainty that he did.

I flicked my eyes up hesitantly, and met his gentle expression only for a moment before I was compelled to dart my eyes down again. A new wave of heat travelled from my cheeks to my ears. He laughed again, a bit louder, and I bit my lip.

“Yeah, yeah. I get it…bastard.” I leaned back in the chair and turned my attention to Alfred’s strange way of advancing Arthur (I think that’s his name).

Once again, because he’s a fucking idiot American, he’s wearing his goddamned overalls. He must have several pairs or something, because each time I see him wearing them, there are different and very unique paint splatters. Where the fuck does this boy come from and why did they let him in New York?

“Wait, what’d he say?” I asked and looked at Antonio for an answer.

“Oh, it’s an American expression. ‘Pop a squat’ is like saying ‘take a seat,’” he explained smoothly, but his face still had that annoying, sensitive expression.

I hurriedly looked away and answered, “That’s a shitty way of saying it.”

“Aw, Alfred’s just being himself,” Feli defended and not-so-discreetly took a photo.

“What are you doing?”

He didn’t look up from his phone. “Francis said he wants to document Arthur’s progression into an American relationship, and he said wants people to take photos of them when they’re together.”

“I think he’s doing something like that with Gilbert and Matthew,” Antonio commented and picked up his pen to resume doodling.

I groaned and tilted my head back. “Shit. Please don’t tell me those two are in a relationship.”

“Oh, they’re not. Gilbert’s a still like a twelve-year-old boy. He doesn’t know what to do with a crush,” Antonio laughed and shook his head. “He’s so silly.”

“Sillier than you? Well, shit. At least I know that won’t go anywhere,” I rolled my eyes and stared at Alfred again. He was showing Arthur his sketches of him. It didn’t seem like the Brit liked them. Or did he? It’s hard to tell if he wants to punch Alfred or hug him. Those are really the only two options for that idiot. Not that I’d ever hug the bastard. It’s only punching.

“Hey Lovi, have you thought anymore about Alfred’s offer?”

My eyes widened and I jerked my head in Feli’s direction. “What?” My eyes flicked to Antonio and he was looking at me, his eyes glinting in curiosity.

“You know,” Feli waved his hand. “How Alfred wanted to buy that apartment with you and start a studio.”

You’re by brother and I love you, but Feli – fuck you, and fuck your goddamn blabbermouth.

I winced when Antonio broke the pen, and then my face flushed in shame, like I was the one to blame for this situation.

“Antonio, that’s not what Feli meant,” I said quickly, but Antonio’s hard face stayed still. “Alfred just offered me a job, kind of.” Antonio exhaled in relief and I did the same. And since I had the chance, I puffed up in anger and continued, “And why are you still getting so worked up over this? Alfred’s basically married to that guy. It’s obvious he’s not interested in me.”

Antonio blushed lightly, and I smirked. I love it when I make him do that.

“ _Lo siento_ , Lovi. I know you’re right. I just, I always get a little nervous about you two. You’re so similar.”

“Don’t insult me.”

“Ay, you know what I mean. You share similar artistic qualities. I can’t really compete with that. And you’re both very talented too. You understand each other in that way.” Antonio looked at me meaningfully and I flicked my eyes away, catching his drift.

I guess that part’s true. Alfred and I do get alo – no. We lik – no. Uh, we can…talk to each other? Yeah. I guess there are certain things I can talk about with him that I can’t talk about with other people. And yeah, we might have kind of similar art styles. Well, his is decidedly more American or whatever the shit it is. Unsophisticated.

But I’m starting to think, maybe, an art studio with him could…work. And it’d be different. It’d be new. I’ve never done anything against what Nonno told me. Feli and I attended every art class, every program, every specialized school; and all of it, save for the modern classes Feli had to beg him for, were his idea.

Actually, even this transfer to New York was Feli’s idea. It was hard to convince Nonno of that, but I helped and I promised to keep watch over him.

But it was still Feli’s move. He had the guts to ask. Hell, he had the guts to even think about it. I’ve never dared to step out of line. I just wanted to be on Feli’s level, I didn’t even think of trying to be something different.

So maybe…Maybe ditching college, and starting something new would be…for the best? At least, I’d be doing something. And it suits me. I mean, I like Antonio, but to all of those art teachers who breathe down your neck and tame your art to the way they like it – fuck you. It pisses me off.

And didn’t Mary Cassatt ditch college and fly to Paris just so she could hang out with the Impressionists? She got to study with Degas in the end, so it obviously worked out for her.

Not that Alfred is any fucking Degas. Degas is a Greek God.

But Alfred is, admittedly, an accomplished artist.

“But Toni, if Lovi went to go work with Alfred, everything would be perfect! He’d quit school and you two could have your own happily ever after!” Feli exclaimed and I blinked out of my quiet reverie.

“Lovino…would quit school?” Antonio repeated slowly, his lips lingering on the words. Then he turned to me slightly horrified. “But Lovi, if you quit, I’ll never see you again!”

“W-what?” I blurt and squint my eyes at him. “Y-you’re the one who was saying we can’t keep doing this forever! One of us needs to change our position, and it makes more sense for me. I don’t like school anyway.” Antonio’s expression dropped and I sighed in exasperation. “I said _school_ , not you. Honestly, the only reason I don’t ditch as often as Feli is because I see you for four out of five classes. It’s not like I’ve ever enjoyed going to school. Feli knows that much.”

“Vee~ it’s true! Lovi was always a terrible student.”

“Shut up.”

“But you said –”

“Shut up,” I interrupted again and resumed staring at Antonio. “And it’s not like we’d never see each other again! I’d have free time and shit, and God knows you hardly work. We’d find ways!”

Antonio pouted. “Yeah, but…I like having you here.”

I bit my lip and turned away. “Y-yeah, but it’d be for the best if I left. It’d be safer f-for y-you.”

I chanced a quick glance at Antonio, and his open mouth closed to a slight smile again.

“You two could always move in together! That’d solve everything!” Feli gleefully exclaimed and aptly found a way to break the serenity. Again.

While I tried to ignore how absolutely ecstatic Antonio’s expression had suddenly become, I faced Feli and glared. “What do you mean move in together? For one, there’s no way I’m sharing the apartment with you and Antonio. That’s fucking weird. And if you’re thinking of making it some weird love utopia by inviting your potato bastard too, that’s fucking weirder.”

“Why didn’t you say anything about moving into my apartment?” Antonio intervened and cocked his head to the side innocently.

“I’m not even going to answer that,” I answered dismissively, and waited for Feli’s response.

“Vee~ that’s not what I mean! Since I’m starting culinary school next semester, Luddy and I were planning on renting an apartment together nearer to the school! So if you like, just invite Antonio over to our old apartment! I know you get lonely living by yourself.”

“Lovi gets lonely?” Antonio looked at me sadly and opened his arms as an invitation for a hug.

“Fuck, I do not!” I denied vehemently, though the glowing blush might’ve given me away. “And Feli – you’re fucking moving in with the guy? You barely know him!”

“You barely know Toni, but you’re moving in with him!”

“What? No I’m not! Stop doing that! What the hell is Nonno going to say to that? He put me in charge of watching over you. Do you think he’s just going to turn that over to a German bastard he just met?”

Feli stared at me. Then he grinned happily. “Of course! Luddy was training to be a doctor! He knows more about asthma and being sick than you do! I’d never have to worry with him!”

“Ah, he has a point there, Lovi.”

I dug my nails slightly into my arms, then settled for twisting the fabric of my shirt. I closed my eyes and sighed. “Fine.”

“Fine…what?” Feli repeated questioningly.

I opened my eyes slightly and focused on Alfred’s pathetic attempts at flirting. “Fine, you can do whatever you want. Just tell Nonno and we’ll go from there.”

Feli squealed, then the chair screeched, and suddenly I was encircled into a messy, snug hug. “Aw, Lovi! You’re too sweet! I knew you’d understand!”

“Yeah, yeah,” I mumbled and gently pushed his arms away. Feli skipped back to his seat and I stared at my fingers numbly.

Another thing Feli has the guts to ask about that I don’t.

 

~

 

On Friday night, Nonno disappeared on some mysterious date. Feli tried to tell me about it, but I shut him down, because there’s no way in hell I want to know more about my grandpa’s love-life than I already do. But that left Feli free to prance around Broadway with the potato bastard, and me free to lounge around at home.

And I thought that meant I was going to be by myself for the rest of the night, but when Antonio found out, he kind of invited himself over. And I…didn’t stop him.

He could probably tell I was feeling kind of melancholy or whatever, so after school he tagged along and we settled for sitting on the couch and watching soccer reruns. At first I claimed the couch by laying down on it, and I thought that’d force him onto the love-seat, but damn it. Antonio just decided to lift me up, and plop me back down on his lap. I hate that it’s that easy for him.

B-but I was k-kind of comfortable. I’d never say it, but I liked being near him. I liked being hugged by him and held by him. It feels so safe and reassuring, like I can breathe, close my eyes, and very often sleep. I wasn’t napping now, since there was too much on my mind for that, but I did rest my head on Antonio’s knee and close my eyes. He played with my hair absentmindedly and made soft comments about the soccer match. I hummed my responses.

It was nice…being like this. I rarely felt at ease with other people, but with Antonio it’s different. Maybe it’d be fun to live with him. I’m never lonely when we’re together. It’s the only time I feel that way. Even being with Feliciano, I feel like there’s something missing.

“Lovi,” Antonio spoke up, and his thumb brushed over my cheek.

“Yes,” I mumbled quietly.

“Would we take turns making breakfast?”

I smiled, and turned my face slightly over so he couldn’t see. “You’d make breakfast. We can take turns making lunch. And I’ll make dinner.”

“Oh, I see,” he said with a light chuckle. “Who would clean the dishes?”

“I don’t like cleaning.”

“But somebody has to do it.”

I groaned. “Fine. We can take turns doing it.” But there’s no way in hell I’m actually doing dishes.

“How about laundry?” He asked, and I could hear the amusement in his voice. He was enjoying this game.

“Most of my stuff needs to be dry-cleaned,” I said simply, and he laughed again.

“Alright. I’ll do laundry.” He brushed his fingers through my hair, and I sighed silently. “What side of the bed?”

My eyes fluttered open and I focused on a spot on the floor. “Right.” I could feel my cheeks heating up.

“Hmm, I sleep on the right too,” Antonio said quietly, and I suddenly wished he’d stop touching me. I felt too flustered and warm. “But I can move to the left.”

A small laugh escaped me, and I turned my face over further so my smile was completely hidden.

But somehow, he still managed to press a quick kiss to my cheek, and I tried to push him away blindly.

Antonio laughed and retreated, and resumed combing his fingers through my hair. I assumed he wanted to say something else. He’s only completely silent when he’s thinking.

“So,” he began slightly awkwardly. “Have you thought anymore about what Alfred said?”

Of course I have. “Yeah,” I mumbled and tried to focus on the game.

“What do you think you’ll do?” He pressed gently.

I frowned and intertwined my fingers together nervously. “I-I think I’ll bring it up maybe a-at the Art Show,” I said and closed my eyes again. “We’ll see.”

“Do you want to do it?” He asked and he grasped my chin in between his thumb and forefinger and forced my eyes on him.

I darted my eyes over his face. “I think so…yeah.”

Antonio smiled, and held my face in his hands. “Then there’s nothing to worry about. You’ll see.”

I bit my lip and looked away.

“Your grandfather will understand,” he added.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “I guess.”

 

~

 

I thought about it most of the night. The benefits of doing it, the drawbacks, the risks. Those thoughts kept me awake, but at some point I drifted asleep, and those thoughts lingered with me in my dreams. So even when I awoke sometime near noon on Saturday, I was still in the same place. As indecisive as ever.

I had a breakfast/lunch in the kitchen and saw Feli. He was as calm and careless, not worried about a thing; not even about the Art Show. Nonno wasn’t anywhere to be found, and Feli got as far as telling me he was spending the night at his date’s house before I cut him off. Again, I don’t need to know more about his love-life than I already do.

So I went back to the room, and fell back asleep. Hoping I’d either sleep through the show, or wake up with an answer.

 

~

 

“Vee~ Alfred! _Ciao_ , how are you doing?” Feli exclaimed and skipped ahead of me to give Alfred a quick hug.

I rolled my eyes and followed him. We arrived right on time, but Nonno said he’d meet us here. With his date. _Ugh._

“Pretty good, little man! I feel like a superhero running on the power of love!”

“Wonder how long that’ll last,” I muttered under my breath, but Alfred didn’t seem to hear.

Instead he slapped me hard on the back and laughed that booming laugh of his. “And there’s my mini-me! You thinking about my proposition?”

“Fuck, that hurt!” I yelled and in turn, hit him hard in the bicep. Which of course he didn’t feel. I sighed and crossed my arms. “Yeah, I’m thinking about it.”

“Well, good! But just a quick reminder, that apartment I was telling you about ain’t going to be on the market forever, so if you could just give me your answer by say...Monday?” Alfred winked at me, and patted me on the shoulder a bit more softly.

“Damn it, I’ll get back to you when I get back to you!” I shouted and stalked over to a different side of the room. Gupta was standing nearby with his hands in his pockets, so I approached him. “You finally decided to show up to one of these, huh?”

He looked at me lazily. “Well, my grandmother’s coming, so I kind of had to.”

My eyebrow twitched. “Your grandmother?”

“Yeah. She owns a jewelry shop and she had time to stop by. I think she’s bringing a date though. Sort of weird.”

Holy fuck.

“Oh, that’s her,” Gupta pointed to the entrance, where a tan-skinned, elegant looking lady was walking through.

“Really? That’s my grandpa,” I pointed to Nonno who walked in after her, and quickly grasped her hand.

Gupta and I looked at each other awkwardly. Well, awkward for me. His face was still rather bland.

“I’ll just…go over there,” I said quickly, and stomped over to another side of the room, in front of my last painting.

I glanced at the entrance again, and saw Feli was chatting happily to Nonno and the date. It looked like they’d be a while. Especially if they decide to stop at Feli’s painting, and Feli feels like dropping the bomb there. So I stare aimlessly at my work and zone out.

Which is when I realize… _where the fuck is Antonio?_ I told him to be careful tonight so he doesn’t come off as my teacher in front of me, but I didn’t tell him to not show up at all. I need him here, damn it!

As Alfred is walking tunelessly whistling I snag his arm and jerk him backwards.

“Hey bastard, where’s Antonio?”

Alfred blinks at me in confusion, before understanding settles his eyes. “Oh, right! Toni said he had some work to do at his house, so he’d be late. I’m not sure when he’s coming, but I think he still is.”

“Work? Like cleaning the turtle tank work, or a job work?” I clarified and Alfred tilted his head up in thought.

“I think it was…a job? He said he was taking pictures.”

I frowned and dropped my grip of Alfred’s shirt. “Damn it. Fine. I don’t need him here anyway.”

“Oh, are you thinking of telling your grandpa about the big move?” Alfred asked and his blue eyes glinted excitedly.

I gritted my teeth and smacked him hard in the shoulder. “Shut up. I don’t know.”

“Aw, you should just do it! What’s the worse that could happen, right?” Alfred shrugged his shoulders and skipped away.

Fuck, he’s even worse when he’s happy.

Then, from the corner of my eye I caught Feli and Nonno, chatting it up near his painting. The woman was gone, probably to where Gupta’s work was, but Feli and Nonno both looked pretty engulfed in their conversation. I could only guess what it was about.

Of course, Feli didn’t look nervous and Nonno didn’t seem upset in the slightest. My palms were sweating and I continuously had to wipe them off on the front of my jeans. Finally, when Nonno guffawed a large gleeful laugh and pulled Feliciano in for a hug, I knew it was over. And it was fine. Of course. Of fucking course.

It looked like they were trying to find me now, and Feli was very quick to point me out. And they walked over, both smiling ridiculously.

“Ah, my little Lovi! How are you?” Nonno asked and ruffled my hair.

I fixed it automatically and frowned. “Fine.” I glanced in Feli’s direction for some indication of their conversation, but Nonno was fast to follow up.

“Feli just finished telling me some wonderful news. He’s going to culinary school, isn’t that exciting?” Nonno chuckled and wrapped his arm around Feli’s shoulder to give him a squeeze.

“Yeah,” I said simply and stared down at my shoes.

“He also said that he wants to move in with Ludwig. I thought that was a splendid idea. I wouldn’t want Feli to commute so far to school.”

“Yeah, neither would I.”

Nonno was silent for a moment, and I felt his eyes on me. Then his attention must have shifted because he spoke up again in a different tone. “Oh, Lovi! Is this yours?”

I jumped and turned around, suddenly worried that it wasn’t. But I saw the painting of the vineyards, the rolling Tuscan hills and the gentle sunset and I knew it was mine.

“ _S-si_ ,” I mumbled and flushed a bit embarrassed. I’d never seen Nonno looked so teary-eyed.

“Lovino, it’s beautiful! I love it! I’ve never seen you paint like this before. It’s so…new!” He gushed and kissed the top of my head.

I pushed him away weakly, but I was blushing like mad and my lips betrayed me into a smile.

“ _G-Grazie_ ,” I stuttered and tried to cover my smile with my hand. I glanced at my painting again and wondered. Is it new? It doesn’t feel new. It feels natural…like my style. But I guess I never painted in my style before this. I always tried to imitate Feli’s and compete with him on that level.

“It just seems you. I can tell this painting's yours,” he continued and I caught Feli escaping in another direction.

“O-oh, yeah well I-I guess my style changed a bit.”

“You certainly have. I love it so much.” Nonno wrapped me in another hug, and I reluctantly fell into it. Or maybe not so reluctantly. “I guess New York has been good for you, hm? You discovered love and art! Perhaps the two best things!”

My ears burned red and I groaned. I hate it when he brings up Antonio, damn it.

Surprisingly, he was the one to pull away from the hug and he looked at me kindly. “Lovino, I know I’ve been harder on you than Feli. I never meant to be. Or well, maybe I did, but Feli’s not as strong as you, and I wanted you to help take care of him.”

“And I know you think I spoil him more than you, but I always felt bad for Feli. He was sick so often when he was little, I wanted to make sure he could have as much fun as possible.”

 _Oh_.

“But I’ve always loved you just as much, and I know you don’t like to ask for things because you’re too nice, but you should know you can. I only want to support you.”

Now my eyes were stinging, and I stared at him incredulously. “R-really?”

He smiled broader. “ _Si_ , of course.”

“W-well then…”

 

~

 

The taxi finally ( _finally_ ) stopped at the familiar street and I threw some bills over the seat towards the driver. It must have been too much because I heard him yell a loud, “wow, thanks for the tip!” But I was in too much of a hurry to care.

I ran through gate – and the fact that it’s still always open freaks me out – and into the small, tattery apartment complex. I jumped up the stairs two my two. First floor. Second floor. Then I was on the third floor and I raced down the hall.

I stopped in front of Antonio’s room and caught my breath. I felt frantic and jittery. My palms were sweating and my heart was stuttering. So I practiced breathing, in and out, in and out, as I smoothed my hair and fixed my scarf back in place. Try to be calm and collected, calm and collected, calm and – _what the fuck?_

“Dr. Oxenstierna?” I shouted.

The tall, blonde man was in the middle of opening the door, when he shifted his attention from the ground, to me. His glasses shined and I gulped.

“Oh, it’s you L’vino,” he said simply. “What are you doing here?”

Well, shit.

“I, um, I’m here b-because, well,” my eyes darted to the floor nervously and I saw a strange white fluff. “Is that a dog?”

Dr. Oxenstierna looked to the floor. “Yes, it is. She’s my husband’s. Her name is H’natamago.”

“O-oh,” I eyed the creature and a pink tongue stuck out. “It’s…cute?”

“I know,” Oxenstierna replied easily and finished walking through the door. “I hear your brother isn’t coming back next semester.”

My head shot up. “He isn’t,” I nodded and Oxenstierna just stared. He knows. Oh, god he knows, doesn’t he? I bit my lip and clenched my fists. “A-actually, um – sir. I-I’m not r-really coming back…either.”

There. I said it.

“Oh really?”

I nodded.

“Well…that’s too bad,” Oxenstierna looked away and tugged on the leash. He paused in front of me and I caught a tiny hint of a smile. “But maybe it’s for the best.”

Then he continued walking down the hallway, and I shuddered in my place. _He’s so fucking scary._ Like a walking blizzard.

“Lovi?” I heard a familiar voice call and I blinked out of my fear to see Antonio.

Quickly, because I didn’t give a fuck anymore, I tackled him in a hug, and buried my face in his warm chest, and gripped his back with my cold hands. I’m sure I surprised him, but he was quick to reciprocate the hug, and I heard his comforting laugh echo near my ear as he returned the embrace. His strong arms keeping close.

“So you missed me that much, huh?” He chuckled and rubbed my back. “ _Lo siento_ , but I promised Dr. Oxenstierna that I’d take some photos of his dog for his husband’s birthday. He didn’t want me to tell anyone else, so I kept it a secret.”

I shook my head in his shirt. I didn’t miss him. I mean, I did. A bit. But that’s not what this is. I’m just realizing how much I’m _going to miss him_ later. I won’t see him everyday at school. He won’t bother me at my desk, and I won’t yell at him and make fun of his drawings. I won’t get to watch him as he tries to be serious and lecture his students. I won’t be able to run to him between classes because I’ll be lonely and sad. I will miss him...so much.

“I’m leaving,” I coughed roughly. “Next semester. I’m going to join that stupid studio thing with Alfred.”

He paused, and I heard him smile in the silence. “Oh, Lovi. I knew you would.”

“R-really?”

“Yes. You have to. You’re not the type to stay in school forever. Though I want you to.”

“…Yeah.”

He leaned in close and whispered, “I’ll miss you though.”

I flushed darker and pressed my face impossibly closer to him. “I-I’ll miss you too.” I closed my eyes and tried to continue. “B-but you know, your apartment’s kind of shitty.”

“Huh?”

“It’s so small and cramped.”

“Aw, but you said it was cute!”

“I lied.”

There was silence and I think he finally caught on. He maneuvered my face away from his chest and looked down at me. “So what do you suggest?”

I glanced at him, and my face reddened even more. My ears, my cheeks, my neck. But I swallowed my nerves and said, “W-well, m-my place is a hell of a lot nicer.”

Antonio hovered over my face and grinned triumphantly at me. “It is.”

“B-but damn it, if you want to stay you’re going to have to do all the dishes! Got it?”

He didn’t seem fazed by my outburst. He knows what I mean.

“Got it.”

Then I pulled him down for a kiss already.

 

 

 


	19. In Bed: the Kiss, Henri Toulouse-Lautrec, 1892. Oil on cardboard.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Love is when the desire to be desired takes you so bad you feel you could die from it.” – Henri Toulouse-Lautrec

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, finally the end...
> 
> hmu on tumblr if you want to hang after this~ http://spinyfruit.tumblr.com

(Antonio’s POV)

 

 

 

_Christmas Day…_

 

 

 

I love watching Lovino sleep.

There’s something soothing about it. He looks so happy and content, it makes my heart swell in joy. I think I feel happier when I know Lovino’s happy. It matters so much to me that he is.

And I think…he is now.

He still has rough days, that’s true. Sometimes he skipped school to lay in bed, and when I was off work I found him still curled under the covers trying to hide away. Quite often, when I tried to bring up how he felt he snapped at me in anger. A second later I could tell he regretted it, but he couldn't help it. He’s shy and embarrassed, and he doesn’t like telling me when he’s sad. But I make him do it anyway, and in the end, I know he feels a bit more relieved.

By the time winter break was around the corner, school was in full swing, and Lovino was a bit stressed. He’s quitting after this semester, but he’s still ruthlessly competitive, and I knew he wanted to make a lasting impression on everyone. And somewhere in the midst of that, he slipped up.

I walked into the free studio down the hall – the one Lovino liked to hang out in. I saw his messenger bag on the desk, but no sight of him. I looked underneath the desks, called his name, and on a whim opened the storage room door.

We met each other with wide eyes: I’m not sure who was more shocked and who was more scared.

Lovino was sitting on the floor, his left jean rolled up to his knee, with fresh, red horizontal lines laddering up from his ankle until they disappeared under the bunched, dark fabric.

He seemed paralyzed, unsure of what to do. So I had to act first.

I took a deep breath and plucked the thin silver blade from his fingers. I set it on a shelf and kneeled down. Then I examined the cuts. One was deep, but the rest weren’t. There were just so many. It scared me a little.

But he made it a month. This was just a slip up. Everything was going to be fine.

So I wiped the blood away, wrapped his skin in the gauze he had brought with him, and encircled him in a gentle hug. He was shaking. I thought it was shivering at first, but no. He was just afraid.

We skipped the rest of the classes and went home to his apartment. I forced him to eat dinner and eventually he fell asleep in my arms, still crying, “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.”

But finals ended, and we were both free.

Lovino and I visited the studio he and Alfred bought. Alfred was in the middle of fixing it up and wanted to show us. Of course, as soon as Lovino saw it he gave Alfred a new set of orders to follow, but his eyes seemed passionate and sparkling again, so I felt relieved and laughed. Lovino was happy, I was happy.

Then we left for Florence.

I was really excited to visit Lovino’s home, and even though Lovi didn’t say anything, I knew he was excited to go back as well. And it was obvious why that was. His house was beautiful and quiet, a bit detached from the large city, and surrounded by pretty, neat vineyards.

The first thing we did when we arrived was take a walk through them. Lovino was very proud of his knowledge of all of the varieties. He showed me their cellar with their best wine, his favorite hiding places, the wall that recorded how tall he and Feli were at each age. I loved how his eyes danced and his lips turned up slightly at the edges. I loved how he tried so hard to seem casual and careless, even though all he did was care and think. Maybe too much. But I loved that too.

And finally, last night I was able to show him.

Lovino was very afraid. Everything had to be done slowly. But that was fine. I had to reassure him with each piece of clothing that came off that I loved him, that he was beautiful, that the scars were a part of him and that I thought they were beautiful too. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes met mine and that was all I needed. He trusts me. It makes my heart ache in happiness when I realize he trusts me, he loves me, he wants me as much as I want him.

He was so careful. It took so long for him to open up to me. But he did, and I had to explain to him that was why I cried afterwards. It kind of freaked him out since I cried after he said, “ _ti amo_ ,” but I laughed through the tears and told him why. His face was already very red, but I think it might’ve darkened even more and he mumbled “ _idiota_ ” as he pulled me close.

Lovino fell asleep fairly soon after that, but I stayed awake watching him and petting his hair. It took so long, but he was finally content in my arms.

And I couldn’t wait for him to wake up. I wanted to see his mesmerizing brown eyes, soft with sleep.

I wanted to kiss him good morning and say, “ _buenos noches, querido_.”

I wanted to do that everyday for the rest of my life.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who commented, those of you who commented every chapter (OMG that's amazing), those of you who kudos-ed, those of you who bookmarked, and those of you who just even took the time out of their day to read this story. Especially when it got rather hard to read, or when the chapters spiraled out of control - three 9k chapters in a row, what?
> 
> It really does mean so much that you guys cared enough about this story to show your support. I couldn't have come this far without you guys. Really :) You're all so incredibly awesome/beautiful/amazing people and I love you all. *throws daisies and chocolates at you*
> 
> I never mentioned this flat-out, because I think it was already sort of implied in the way I presented the content, but just to say it once. Lovino's experiences are based off of my own. I didn't exaggerate anything and kept it as truthful as I could. I just really wanted to present self-harm realistically in a story. And I tried to do that the best I could.
> 
> So...I'll be back very soon with another Spamano story. It'll be more...romantic. If that makes sense. Slower and more mature. I'm really excited for it, so keep your eyes peeled for that :D It's called Tesoro Mio.
> 
> Once again, thank you guys for all of your support! I hope you have a fabulous day-week-year and I'll be back very, very soon! :D


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